


VINEWOOD

by simplyobrien



Series: THE VINEWOOD SERIES [1]
Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Angst, F/M, Failed Marriage, Ludendorff, Violence, repairing relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:07:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 22,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28018230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplyobrien/pseuds/simplyobrien
Summary: After the Big Score, Amanda reminisces her relationship with Michael.
Relationships: Amanda De Santa/Michael De Santa
Series: THE VINEWOOD SERIES [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2165163
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	1. LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT

**Author's Note:**

> -DURING THE FIRST FEW CHAPTERS, THERE WILL PROBABLY BE MENTIONS OF PHONE CALLS DURING THE 1980's. IGNORE IT, I CAN'T REALLY FIGURE OUT ANOTHER WAY FOR PEOPLE TO COMMUNICATE SO JUST PRETEND NOKIA BRICKS WERE A THING BACK THEN.
> 
> -I KNOW THE BIRTH YEARS OF AMANDA, MICHAEL AND THE KIDS, BUT THINGS SUCH AS THEIR WEDDING DATE ARE COMPLETELY BASED ON THEIR AGE AND ASSUMING THEY WERE MARRIED BEFORE TRACEY WAS BORN.
> 
> -SOME CHAPTERS WILL BE SHORTER THAN OTHERS AS THEY WILL BE BASED ON AMANDA AND MICHAEL'S DIALOGUE IN THE GAME, AND SOME CHAPTERS SET DURING THE GAME WON'T COMPLETELY FOLLOW THE STORYLINE.
> 
> -WHEN THE BOOK MOVES PAST THE GAME (AFTER THE BIG SCORE), CHAPTERS WILL BE BASED ON HOW I THINK THE COUPLE WOULD WORK ON REPAIRING THEIR RELATIONSHIP, SO IT'S PROBABLY NOT THAT ACCURATE.
> 
> THAT BEING SAID, ENJOY!

**Some trailer park in the Midwest, 1988.**

18 year old Amanda sat on the doorsteps of her trailer, drawing the blanket closer around her shoulders as she smoked her cigarette, desperate to drown out the noises of her parents arguing just a few feet away from her inside the trailer. Trying to find some sort of distraction, she twirled her cigarette between her thumb and finger, admiring the way the smoke drew circular patterns before disappearing into the cold December air.

"..not turning anyone in..."

As she had been smoking, she'd been able to pick up that someone was around the corner on the phone, and up until now the voices had been hushed and quiet, which should make Amanda suspicious. However, living in such a drug-driven area had taught Amanda to expect anything, so she just ignored it, just liked she'd ignored the blanket slipping off her shoulders and onto the step behind her.

"...should be fine..."

Then the voice around the corner started getting louder, and Amanda couldn't resist getting just a little closer to listen in. She knew that if she went back into her trailer now, the voice would be gone by the time she came back, and her little bit of entertainment would be gone.

"Trevor! Listen to me!"

Pulling the blanket back over her shoulders and wiggling her small feet into her combat boots, she took one more draw of her cigarette before tossing it into a puddle. Then, trying to make as little noise as she could, Amanda tiptoed towards the edge of the trailer in front of her, poking her head around to get a glimpse of the person on the phone.

And oh god, he was gorgeous.

Bright blue eyes stood out against the pale skin of a man who couldn't have been much older than her, his scowling face and clenched jaw as he shouted down the phone tempting Amanda to step closer to him. The man was dressed in a suit, navy blue with a white shirt, but it was splattered with blood and dirt and lord only knows what. His hair was dark blonde, could possibly be a light brown, but Amanda couldn't see properly with the dull lighting. He wasn't skinny, he had tad bit of fat in him, but from the guys demeanour it was probably from the amount of alcohol he was drinking.

"No, T, we can't go back and kill all the officers at the scene. What's done is done. We'll be okay." The man said, clearly wanting this little phone call to be over. Amanda stepped just a little bit more closer, successfully avoiding alerting the man, and watched him huff before putting the phone down. He shoved it back in his pocket and then began to pace up and down the small pathway, facing away from Amanda. For a second Amanda thought he was going to get in his car and drive off, but then he spun on his heel and turned around.

And then he looked at her.

Shit.

"I swear I wasn't spying!" Amanda blurted out before she could stop herself.

The man raised an eyebrow at her.

"No one said you did, sweetheart," the man said, "now what's a girl like you doing out here all alone at this time?"

Amanda smiled before walking towards the man, gripping the edges of her blanket which was now just as icy cold as she was. She sat on the steps of someone else's trailer before lighting another cigarette, relishing in the warmth of the flame before she begrudgingly put the lighter back in her pocket. She took a draw of her cigarette, then looked up at the man.

"What's a guy like you doing out here all alone?" She grinned.

The mystery man chuckled and sat beside Amanda on the doorstep, warmth radiating from his body. Amanda knew if she just scooted a little closer, shuffled a bit more to her left, she'd be able to share that warmth, but she didn't want to push her luck.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" The man asked, watching smoke leave Amanda's lips and disappear into the air.

"Amanda," she replied, "you?"

"I could tell you..." the man trailed off.

"But?"

"But then I'd have to kill you," he said, making Amanda smile and roll her eyes, "it's Michael."

"Right," Amanda said, "why are you covered in blood?"

Michael looked down at his clothes before a look of panic spread across his face for half a second, then relaxed again. He gave some shitty excuse about him having a nosebleed, but Amanda pointed out that she knew he'd killed someone by how he was speaking over the phone. Michael's expression once again became panicked, before it turned serious.

"I wanted to stay here, lay low for a while, y'know? But if you already know then I'm probably gonna have to take off again." Michael grumbled, his voice muffled by his hands that were covering his face.

"Well that's a shame," Amanda replied as she flicked her cigarette, "I've gained and lost my only friend in the space of about 5 minutes."

Michaels brows furrowed.

"Friend?" He asked.

"Sure, why not." Amanda said with a roll of her eyes, standing up to head back off to the war zone happening inside her trailer. But before she could move, Michael grabbed her wrist.

"Come with me." He asked, though it was more of a demand then a question.

"Why?" Amanda asked, making no move to pull away from Michael's grip. This was the only time she thanked the heavens above for sweaty hands, even if they were lathered in dried blood.

"We're friends, right? Friends do stuff together. Also, I think its fair to assume that the people shouting in that trailer are your parents, and you don't wanna go back to that, do you?" Michael asked, his eyes set on Amanda almost as if he was daring her to say no to him.

Amanda looked between Michael and her trailer, unsure of what to do. She knew if she said no to Michael, he'd probably just kill her, but she also didn't want to leave behind the only life she knew. She smiled weakly at him before nodding towards his car.

"Let's go." Amanda said.

Michael raised his eyebrow but didn't question it, walking beside Amanda towards his beat up car, getting ready for what was sure to be one hell of a drive.


	2. MARRY ME

**Ludendorff, North Yankton, 1989**

6 months later, in the June of 1989, Amanda and Michael now lived in a run down apartment that sat above a quaint coffee shop. Despite Michael seemingly being a specialist in bank robberies, the couple were barely able to make ends meet and had to work multiple side jobs to be able to pay the rent.

Michael worked at the meth lab with his best friends Trevor and Brad, who Amanda wasn't really fond of. Well, she wasn't fond of Trevor, with his loud personality and his constant attempts to lure Michael into traps that were sure to get him killed. However, she tolerated Brad. He was quiet most of the time, but when he did talk it was to make it known that he had a clear hatred for women.

There was also Lester, but Amanda would look at him as more of an acquaintance than a friend, which is a shame considering he's the only person in Michael's posse who seems, well, friendable. He's polite, has a sense of humour, and he tends to be the brains behind all of Michael's heists, but yet is the only one to not come home drenched in blood.

It was one of those nights that Amanda questioned Michael's choice of friends as she sat curled up on her couch, sipping a coffee and mindlessly flicking through the TV channels. She pondered lighting up a joint that was resting in the ashtray, but she knew that if Michael knew it was missing he would kick off and storm out, only to return drunk 3 days later with a bunch of flowers and a lot of apologies.

Amanda rolled her eyes. No money for rent, but money for weed and booze.

The brunette had finally found a programme to watch when she heard the door burst open before it slammed shut and there were footsteps that echoed down the hallways. Because the house was so bare, you could hear everything, from footsteps to the sounds of people breathing.

"Manda?" Michael called out, expecting his girlfriend to be upstairs in bed since it was so late at night. Usually, when she was in bed, she'd listen to Michael bang about downstairs for 10 minutes before finally coming to bed, lazily wrapping an arm around Amanda's waist before falling straight to sleep, unaware of the fact that Amanda would still be awake for hours afterwards.

"I'm in here, Michael," she replied, setting her coffee down on the table as Michael entered the room, kicking his shoes off before throwing himself on the sofa, head resting in Amanda's lap. The girl smiled to herself, as she rarely got to enjoy moments like this with her boyfriend, and began to thread her fingers through his hair, listening to him sigh contentedly. After about 5 minutes of this, Michael finally lifted his head up so his sky blue eyes stared deep into her chocolate brown ones.

"Marry me." He attempted to ask, but Amanda had noticed that Michael had a habit of demanding things instead of asking for them.

Amanda hesitated, waiting for even a slight change of tone in his voice that suggested he was joking, or a grin, but his face was set. He was being dead serious.

She thought about it for a second, taking a cigarette from between Michael's fingers and watching his eyes helplessly chase after it, before taking a drag and finally nodding.

"Alright," she said with a grin.

"Really?" Michael smiled back at her, but not before taking the cigarette back off her and listening to her sigh in frustration as she reached for her own cigarette out of the packet on the table.

"Really." Amanda confirmed before turning her head back to the TV, her expression stone cold but her heart was happy with excitement.

At the time of Michael's 'proposal', Amanda was 19 years old, whilst her now fiancee was 24. Before she completely cut her parents off, they had tried telling her she was way too young to know what she wanted, with Michael's parents saying the same thing, but Amanda didn't listen. She was happy with Michael, she loved him, and that was all that mattered to her. That's all that should matter, right?

It was about half an hour later before the couple finally decided to go to bed, with Michael taking himself upstairs before Amanda could even turn off the TV. Once she had finished locking up the house, she trudged upstairs and into the only bedroom, where Michael was already dozing off to sleep.

She hastily removed her clothes, trying her best to keep quiet, before throwing on one of Michael's shirts and tumbling into bed, kicking the covers away due to the heat of the room. Beside her, Michael was also doing the same thing, and without even realising they both spent about 20 seconds kicking the covers before they finally fell to the floor. Realising they looked like a set of idiots, they turned to each other and spent a good 2 minutes laughing, not just about the covers, but about how ridiculous their life is. Because, despite how broke they were, Michael still decided he was going to marry the girl laid next to him.

Amanda sunk into the mattress, turning to face Michael who was still laughing away to himself, probably from smoking weed or god knows what he got up to with Trevor and Brad. When he finished, he opened his eyes to look at Amanda, who was falling to sleep before Michael could even say goodnight, which he did not like. He turned to lay on his back and pulled Amanda closer to him, who rest her head on Michael's chest and once again began to drift away to the sound of her future husbands heart beat.

"Love you, Mikey," Michael heard her mumble, but before he could raise an eyebrow or ask where she got the nickname 'Mikey' from, her steadied breathing told Michael she was already asleep.

"Love you, baby," He replied, and before long, he was also asleep.


	3. POSITIVE

**Ludendorff, North Yankton, March of 1991**

Amanda paced up and down the small space of her bathroom, her hands shaking with fear and her heart thumping out of her chest in anticipation. Her and Michael had returned from their honeymoon just 2 weeks ago, after an unnecessarily large wedding that they couldn't afford, and since then Amanda had not only missed her period, she had been experiencing constant mood swings and her back was in agony.

Yep, she's taken a pregnancy test.

Amanda had always been short tempered, it didn't take much for her to start raising her voice or huffing and puffing at Michael, maybe he was just an aggravating person, but last week she argued with him for forgetting to get milk from the shop. Milk. It wasn't even that big of a deal, any other time Amanda would've just rolled her eyes and gone to the shop herself, but for some reason she felt the need to scream at Michael, only to cry and apologise to him half an hour later. She knew her mother had experienced the same mood swings when she fell pregnant with Amanda's brother, and even though she was taking a test, the girl knew from the feeling in the pit of her stomach that she was pregnant.

She should be jumping for joy, right? She should be screaming from the rooftops that she's going to have a child with the love of her life. But, could she even provide for this child? She could barely provide for herself and Michael, much less a child which is very expensive to look after. She lived in a 1 bedroom apartment, with barely any furniture or room to move, and as Amanda paced, she wondered what she would do if she was pregnant.

Would she tell Michael straight away? Would she keep it a secret? Would they have to start working more hours so they could move house? Would Amanda finally start working at the meth lab after months of Trevor asking her? Would she put the baby up for adoption? Would she get an abortion?

No, she decided, she wanted to keep this child. Even if it meant having to work 100 different jobs, including the meth lab, she wanted to be able to give this baby the life it deserved. A childhood better than the one she experienced, with love and nurture and two parents who could sit in a room for more than 2 minutes without arguing with each other.

Finally, after the longest 5 minutes of her life, Amanda finally sat back down on the toilet and rubbed her face with her hands, her leg bouncing up and down anxiously. She stretched out her arm to reach for the test, and once she drew it back towards her she flipped it upside-down so she wouldn't have to see the results straightaway. Part of her wanted for it to stay this way, for her to go the rest of her life without knowing, but she knew that she was going to have to deal with it at some point. Before she could change her mind, she flipped the test over and her hand immediately flew to her face.

On the small stick, there was a very prominent red line and a very faint red line that went through it, a plus sign. She was pregnant.

Her eyes clouded with tears. She kind of already knew she was pregnant, but now that the truth was staring her in the face she knew she had to do something because now it was a problem she couldn't ignore. For a moment, she was scared of how Michael would react, if he would scream at her to abort the child or even worse, leave her. Above all, Michael leaving her was the thing she feared the most.

"Michael! Come here!" She shouted, slightly opening the bathroom door so that Michael could hear her.

"Coming, baby!" He responded, and Amanda couldn't help but smile at the pet name. After all the time they had been together, they were still as in love as they were when they first met.

Slowly but surely, Michael made his way up the stairs and pushed open the bathroom door, leaning against the doorframe. He was confused for a second, baffled as to why Amanda would shout him to the bathroom, but when he turned his head to her he saw her puffy red eyes and tear stained cheeks.

"Aw baby, don't cry," he soothed, kneeling in front of her and pulling her head to his shoulder, letting her cry onto his shirt, and stroking her hair as she did so.

"Hey, you're too beautiful to cry," Michael said, his voice barely above a whisper, when Amanda finally pulled away from him. He used his thumb to wipe away her tears, his heart swelling at the small smile that formed on Amanda's lips.

"How do you always know just what to say?" She sniffled, fiddling with the pregnancy test between her fingers. Michael's attention was drawn to it, and he gently pried it away from her fingers before she had the chance to protest. Amanda stopped breathing for a moment, anticipating a tempter tantrum from Michael, but it never came.

"What does a plus sign mean?" Michael asked.

Amanda sighed, "positive, Mikey."

"You're pregnant?"

"Yeah.." Amanda trailed off, once again waiting for Michael to get angry and start shouting. It wasn't that he was always like that, Amanda just never knew what to expect from him. He was a wild card.

After a long moment of silence, Michael's stone cold expression was broken by a beaming grin. He picked Amanda up and spun her around, peppering her in kisses and affection.

"You're pregnant! Oh my god, that's amazing!" He exclaimed, awe struck.

All Amanda could do was laugh and allow Michael to shower her in love, unaware of the fact that after the birth of their child, it was the last bit of love she'd receive from her husband for a very long time.


	4. DADDYS LITTLE GIRL

Ludendorff, North Yankton, December of 1992

From the moment she was born, Tracey Townley was a daddy's girl. Despite both Michael and Amanda having dark brown hair, Tracey had glowing, golden locks that sprouted from her head in millions of tiny curls, and from being only months old her hair was extremely hard to contain. She had crystal blue eyes, thanks to Michael, but her prominent eyebrows (which Tracey had learned she could have entire conversations with) came from her mother.

By the time Tracey had turned one, she could just about walk and say a mix of words, such as 'mommy', 'daddy', 'up' and 'teetee', which was her pathetic attempt at saying 'Uncle Trevor', but Michael thought it was adorable. Amanda, on the other hand, thought it was scary.

She hated Trevor. If you ignore the fact that she had slept with him before she met Michael - she was a stripper back then, and she hadn't even realised it was him before Trevor brought it up during one of his and Michael's many arguments - she refused to go anywhere near him and wouldn't speak to him unless she had to, and even then Trevor would just spit creepy comments at her until she eventually clamped her mouth shut.

On this particularly bitter December day, Michael had taken Tracey to the meth lab, unknown to Amanda, she was under the impression they'd just gone shopping, whilst she laid on the battered couch and stroked her swollen belly. She was 6 months pregnant with a boy, whom her and Michael had decided they were calling James, and although she was happy at first she now regretted not getting an abortion.

Her husband was distant, now only speaking to Amanda when he needed to or for sex. The flame that they once shared was now stomped out and blowing away in the wind, and nothing made Amanda more sad. She loved Michael with her entire heart, she longed for him every moment he wasn't here, but she knew deep down that he was entertaining someone else and making them happy. She was heartbroken.

So, she played him at his own game.

"Mandy?" Michael called out as he came into the apartment, stomping his snow-covered shoes on the carpet. Tracey didn't care about trailing snow everywhere, as she toddled into the room with her hands in the air, repeating 'mama! up!' until Amanda gave in and let Tracey sit on her knee.

Of course, this shouldn't be a hard task, any mother would be happy to sit with their one year old child, but Amanda hated it. It wasn't that she didn't love the bones off her child, it was that every single thing Tracey did reminded her of Michael, and all Amanda wanted to do was push him away and forget him.

Forget the man she was married to and about to have her second child to. Right.

Michael shuffled into the room a few minutes later, muttering about how cold he was and how it was illegal to be this chilly. Amanda wanted to make a remark about how pretty much everything Michael does is illegal, but she kept quiet. Every attempt she had made in the past to get Michael to stop killing people, pulling heists, robbing liquor stores, and breaking every law he could possibly break, was just met with either silence, an argument or Michael just calling her a 'useless bitch' and then going to bed.

As soon as Michael settled on the sofa, Amanda shot up, with Tracey on her hip, and ran upstairs to put her golden girl to bed. Tracey clung to her, stifling a yawn and trying to pretend she wasn't tired, as Amanda laid her down in the crib beside Amanda's side of the bed. It was way past the girls bed time, and Amanda reminded herself that she would have to scold Michael about keeping Tracey up so late, and once she had said goodnight to her already sleeping daughter she tiptoed down the stairs to face Michael.

She hated even being in his presence. She was drawn to him and he just kept pushing her away.

Slowly, she sunk down on the sofa and huffed in pain as she felt a pain in her stomach, knowing that her baby was definitely going to come earlier than his due date in April. Michael raised his eyebrow at her and shook his head, making no move to comfort her like he used to when she was pregnant with Tracey.

"You're avoiding me." Michael said bluntly.

"Yeah," Amanda replied softly, "what else am I supposed to do?"

"What else are you supposed to do?" Michael sneered as his voice began to get louder, "you should love me, I'm your fucking husband!"

"You don't love me, not like you used to. All I want to do is spend time with you, and you're just pushing me away." Amanda said.

"How?"

"You're never in the house, you don't have time for me anymore. You don't love me." Amanda's voice broke at the last word, and a tear slipped down her cheek.

"Of course I fucking love you, are you stupid? Aww no Mandy, don't cry, I hate it when you do that." Michael looked at her, and he wanted to reach out and hug her or something but he was scared she would shy away from him, so for now he settled for rubbing her arm up and down until she leaned into him and wept softly into his shirt, and Michael's heart broke.

Where had they gone wrong?


	5. A CLEAN SLATE

_**Ludendorff, North Yankton, December of 2004** _

Amanda paced up and down her room nervously as she waited for a phone call from Michael. Tracey and James, now 13 and 11, paid no mind to their anxious mother as they went upstairs to their rooms, heads buried in their phones and rambling to their friends about how lame school was. Living in a desolate area such as Ludendorff meant you didn't make many friends, but the ones you did make were friends for life.

In 2000, Michael and Amanda had saved up enough money from the male's 'job' to finally move into a 3 bedroom house large enough to accommodate all of them. Tracey was growing older by the second, and the then-9-year-old would throw constant tantrums over having to share a bedroom with her 'gross' brother. Michael robbed a bank some 150 miles away, and they moved within two days.

Speaking of bank robberies, that's exactly what Michael was doing now, except this time he'd made the idiotic decision of robbing his own local bank. He told Amanda it was because the crew needed funding for a bigger job, but Amanda knew it was bullshit due to how many 'bigger' jobs Lester had offered Michael, but he turned them down because he was too scared of dying.

After an hour of pacing and waiting, Amanda's ringtone blared through the room, making her jump. She answered the phone with shaky fingers, but the voice that came down the other end wasn't the one that belonged to her husband.

"This is David Norton from the Federal Investigation Bureau, am I speaking to Amanda Townley?"

"Uhhhh....sure," Amanda answered, unsure if this was just some trick to get Michael caught. He had always taught her that if the police phone her, to either not answer or gave a fake name, but he never said anything about the fucking FIB calling.

"Michael is your husband, correct?" David spoke down the phone, his voice completely monotone.

"Yes." Amanda replied.

"He was arrested a few hours ago for an attempted bank robbery and mass homocide, but that's not what I am phoning you for. I am phoning to let you know that Michael will be offered a deal he cannot turn down, so I'm telling you to pack your stuff because you won't be at your house much longer."

"What the fuck?" Amanda sneered, "My husband will not be taking any deals from the likes of you."

"Oh, but he will," David replied smugly, "Imagine this: living in a beautiful mansion in Rockford Hills, Los Santos, with a generous amount of money in your bank and all the cars you could ask for."

Amanda paused. Why would he do that for a man who just robbed a bank and killed a hell of a lot of people?

"What's the catch?"

"There isn't one, for you atleast. All that needs to happen is for your family to change your surnames and stay low-key for a while, and I take all the glory for catching Michael....ah, is it Townley? In what would've been the biggest bank robbery in the history of bank robberies."

Amanda put the phone down and slammed it on the table without replying. She crossed her fingers and hoped Michael would make the right choice and just take his time in jail, which sucked, but to her it seemed a lot safer than this FIB guy. But when Michael burst through the door half an hour later, Amanda's heart dropped.

"Listen, Amanda. We're going to move to Los Santos. Start over. I made a deal. The slate will be totally wiped clean." He said as he came in, already starting to stuff things into duffel bags as he spoke.

Amanda couldn't even look at her husband. She had been biting her lip since she put the phone down, willing herself not to cry, but now the tears rolled freely down her face. She had built a life here, she had a job and she had friends and she had two children who'd lived here their whole lives. Now they were going to be ripped away from everything they'd ever known - their school, their friends, their beloved rooms - all because Michael just had to be a fucking piece of shit who wandered at the wrong side of the law.

Sometimes she regrets the night where she got curious and listened in to that phone call.

"Trust me, darling," Michael said as he finally paused and realised that Amanda was facing away from him, quiet sobs shaking her body, "Look at me, Amanda. It was the only thing I could do. Either everyone dies, or one guy gets out. I'm that guy!"

"Shut up, Michael." Amanda replied, her voice laced with venom, as she too began shoving things into bags and called upstairs to tell the kids to do the same thing. They were confused at first, but they knew that their father wasn't a very good guy, and inmediately began packing their things as soon as they heard 'mansion' and 'money' in the same sentence.

"His name is Dave Norton, nice guy - realist. He gets the glory, I get out. It's not even a decision. Amanda, I don't have a choice." Michael rambled, now feeling slightly guilty for dumping all of this on his poor wife, who just wanted to live life simply.

Kids, a house, a nice car. That was all she ever wanted.

"Do you wanna die here where it's always snowing? Or do you wanna go and live where it's always sunny?" Michael asked as he grabbed Amanda's wrists to stop her from what she was doing and gain her attention, as well as actually getting her to look at him.

When Amanda finally spoke, it was just a simple question.

"What happened?" She croaked, her eyes downcast as she tried to stop the tears from falling. For a moment, she kind of wished that Michael would do that thing where he wiped her tears away and told her she was too pretty to cry, but right now she was too angry, so she wiggled free from his grasp and resumed packing.

"It was just some depot out of town, you don't need to know. Trust me, nothing is gonna go wrong. Nothing." He replied, trying to convince her, aswell as himself, that this was the best move for them. But right now, with his wife a heartbroken mess on the floor of the house they had worked so hard for? He thought about taking the time in prison for a moment.

Amanda shook her head, "don't speak to me."

"I did the deal, Amanda. It's over. Baby, we get out. Be happy. Be normal!" He exclaimed, waving his arms about and trying to make some sort of joke to lighten the mood. The brunette girl shook her head once again and pulled on her coat and shoes, proceeding to take the bags they had packed to the car. Michael then watched as she ran upstairs and screamed at the kids to hurry up, only to return 5 minutes later with two teary eyed children and whole lot more bags that they were going to have to squish in the back of the car.

After locking the door to the house, Amanda was the last to slam her car door shut and click her seatbelt in. The kids chatted excitedly in the back about moving to Los Santos, the kind of place that was only real in TV shows, but Amanda couldn't stop crying. She tried to keep it quiet as to not further upset the children after shouting at them earlier, something she rarely did, but it got to the point where it was distracting Michael from driving because he felt so guilty.

But on the other hand, Amanda walked into this relationship knowing what Michael did and chose to stay. So, in his eyes, it was kind of her fault aswell.

"We did it. Baby, we are home free. It's over." Michael said, turning his head to get a proper look at Amanda, and oh god did he regret it. Her usually crystal blue eyes were puffy and red from crying, her hair was a mess, and she was wearing the same pyjamas she'd been in for the past 2 days: one of Michael's shirts and some grey joggers. And yet, she still look beautiful. Michael's heart swelled.

"Shut the fuck up." Amanda growled.

Her husband just shook his head and turned his eyes back to the road, and although his mind was set, his heart felt extremely heavy.

Would Amanda ever forgive him?


	6. REDHANDED

**_Vinewood, Los Santos, May of 2014_ **

"Amanda? Tracey?"

Michael had come home one day to his house deadly silent, which wasn't normal considering he had a 21 year old stoner son who fumed at his xbox all day, a 23 year old wannabe popstar daughter, and a wife who just complained about how much she hated her life all day everyday.

Michael thought nothing of it, assuming Amanda had just took his bank card and gone shopping with the kids, and stood outside his front door to light a cigarette. He took a drag, and as he exhaled the smoke, it was like all the tension and stress from that day had left with it. He bathed in the feeling, thinking that maybe his life would be able to have one day without drowning himself in a bottle of whiskey to forget what happened, but of course that's never the case.

Because as he turned his head, not only did he see his wife's tennis racket on the floor, there was also the tennis coaches'.

Michael lifted the cigarette up before slamming it on the floor and huffing, almost like his wife cheating on him was a regular occurrence and something he'd just learned to deal with. But doing it in his house? Absolutely not.

"Amanda?" 

Silence.

"Amanda! You better not be...not in my house!" He shouted, stomping up the stairs as rage consumed his thoughts. He reached the top of the stairs and headed straight for his room, where the woman of the hour was stood outside the door with messy hair and her body was only covered by a towel.

"Fuck you Michael, go away." She seethed, almost like her husband was the one in the wrong.

"I'm paying that turd 150 bucks an hour to fuck my wife? In my own bed?" He replied, equalling Amanda's level of rage, as he stormed into the bedroom.

"Michael, go away!" Amanda shouted as she followed him.

He wasn't even listening to her anymore, especially when he saw the wife-stealing-money-robbing prick in his bed, almost naked beside his lame excuse for underwear. Seriously, what did Amanda see in this dude that Michael didn't have?

"I'm sorry bro, she said you had an arrangement." The tennis coach panicked as Michael chased him off the bed.

"You and I are gonna have an arrangement, I'm gonna arrange your fuckin' funeral!" Michael said as Amanda pulled him back by his arm. Any other time, Michael would've been shocked that she was touching him, and maybe any other day he would've warmed up to her, but right now all he could see was that mans head on a plate at his kitchen table.

"I'm sorry bro, I'll cut the session, I promise!"

"You're a dead man! Dead! Come here!"

But it was too late, because the man had already jumped out of the window.

Michael ran down the stairs, quickly followed by Amanda, just as a confused Franklin came strolling through the door. He looked at the broken glass outside, the broken plant pot, and then Amanda wrapped in a towel and then Michael who was fully clothed. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened.

Franklin was a...friend of Michael's, if thats what you'd call it. They met when Franklin stole Jimmy's car and Michael nearly shot him, but after Franklin found himself crossing Michael's path once again during a yacht-chase, Michael took him under his wing. He was like a sane, level-headed, younger, black Trevor.

Why was Michael looking for Trevor in every person he met?

"Hey, you! Stop it!" Amanda pleaded as she followed Michael.

"Hey man wassup," Franklin greeted, but was met with a rude and blunt response from Michael. Oh, this dude's angry.

"Calm down." Amanda said, joining Michael and Franklin at the door.

"The fuck is goin' on?"

"Nothing happened, it was a misunderstanding-"

"She fucked that prick in my bed." Michael cut Amanda off, before barging past Franklin and out of the front door to catch the tennis coach before he got away.

"You bullshittin'?" Franklin questioned, slightly bemused by this whole situation.

"It wasn't like that!" Amanda shouted.

She was ignored.

"You in?" Michael asked, pointing to Franklin.

"Yeah I'm in lets roll, let's get this motherfucker." 

"Just don't kill him!" Amanda begged, before running back into the house and slamming the doors shut.

The car hadn't even pulled away before Amanda broke out in uncontrollable sobbing at the bottom of the stairs, her cries echoing through the empty house. Her towel had begun to slip away, and as she adjusted it to keep her covered, she couldn't help but remember how she did the same thing with the blanket keeping her warm the night her and Michael met. If she wasn't regretting that night before, she definitely was now.

She startled as she felt an arm slip around her shoulder and draw her close, but relaxed when she opened her eyes to see her only son, James - or Jimmy, J-dog, jizzle, whatever he likes to be called. Jimmy knew that his parents didn't have the best of relationships, and although his mom cheating on his dad was wrong, he also knew that Michael had not only ripped her entire life away from her, he had also started the chain of cheating the night he fucked a stripper.

"Mom..it's...it's gonna be okay." He said at an attempt to console her. Another downside of your parents having a strained relationship is not knowing what a real relationship looks like, therefore not being very good with emotions.

"It's not, Jim," Amanda sniffled, "none of this is okay. If we weren't under the most fucked, corrupt wit-sec in the history of wit-secs, I would've divorced your father a long time ago. Especially if we didn't have kids."

"If you and dad ever split up, you know me and Tracey would come with you."

Amanda smiled at that, even though its fucked that her kids wouldn't even think twice about leaving their own dad for good, but she knew it wasn't their fault.

It was her's for marrying a murdering sack of shit, atleast that's what Michael always said. 'You chose to marry me, you chose to get into this mess with me', 'Not my fault you won't leave me', but then at the same time he would never let her leave. She couldn't win.

Atleast that's what she thought.


	7. THIEF

**_Vinewood, Los Santos, June of 2013_ **

"Fuck...fuck!" Amanda hissed as she was lead out of the store in handcuffs. You would've thought that being married to such a notorious criminal would've prepared her for this sort of thing, but with the way Amanda was acting now, it definitely didn't.

She managed to manoeuvre her phone out of her pocket to call the one and only person she knew would be able to help: her husband. Yes, she may have cheated on him and they may not have spoke in weeks, but if he wants to keep his family protected from the people trying to kill him, his best bet would probably be to keep his wife out of jail and away from prying eyes.

As Michael finally answered the phone, however, the cop who had arrested her had different plans, and began forcing her into the backseat of the police car.

"Don't touch me!" She shouted. Michael, who was now listening at the other end of the phone, rolled his eyes.

"Oh, you don't have to call me to tell me that." He replied.

"Not you," Amanda said, taking Michael by surprise, "the Didier Sachs store detective. There's been a misunderstanding. I need you to help clear it up."

"Ohh, now you want me? Alright, I'm coming."

As he was hanging up, he heard his wife verbally abusing the policeman by calling him a 'worthless turd' which is when he decided he might want to hurry up. Amanda had a very short temper, and Michael knew things would escalate quickly if he didn't swoop her out of whatever mess she was in.

It was a solid 5 minutes before Amanda finally spotted her husbands black Tailgater pull up behind her, and she decided now was the best time to break herself free of her handcuffs. It was as easy as abc's to Amanda, her husband had shown her numerous ways to break free of handcuffs countless times incase a situation like this ever occurred, but that was back when they were poor and living in Ludendorff. Amanda had money now, so why the hell was she stealing?

Just as Amanda had got herself free, the police officer poked his head through the open car window to check on her. When he saw that her arms could freely move about, he immediately lunged for her in an attempt to restrain her.

"Get off me." She spoke calmly, yet with a scarily assertive tone.

The police officer still didn't let go, though.

"I said get off me, you stupid bastard!"

Her outburst was so unexpected that not only did it cause the police officer to let go of her, he almost completely lost his balance. Now would be the time to drive me away Michael, Amanda thought to herself.

"I told you, she's a biter." One of the shop assistants said.

Yeah, she always has been, Michael thought, that's why I fell in love with her.

Casually, Michael hopped into the cop car and buckled himself in, sparing a second to glance at his clearly furious yet distraught wife in the back seat. Her jaw was clenched, her arms were folded over her chest and there was a fire in her eyes that almost made Michael forget was he was doing. Almost.

Amanda also snapped back to reality the minute she heard bullets hitting the car. She muttered something along the lines of 'hit the gas, come on,' but Michael knew he had to ignore her and concentrate on what he was doing if he wanted to get them both out of the wrath they were about to face from the LSPD.

"Chill out, it's under control." Michael said reassuringly, but it wasn't helping Amanda at all. This wasn't at all how she expected to get her first car chase, but then again she wasn't really expecting to ever get in to a car chase at all.

Michael practically flew the car down the street, taking all sorts of twists and turns in order to lose the cops, but after 5 minutes of playing cat and mouse, Michael still couldn't shake them. Amanda was starting to think maybe she should've just took the punishment.

"Shit, they're still on us." She said.

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

"Doesn't fuckin' look like it." Amanda retorted with a roll of her eyes.

Just as she finished her sentence, Michael suddenly swerved, throwing Amanda to the other side of the car.

"Hello?! No seatbelt!" She shouted angrily, rubbing her head that had smashed against the rolled up car window. However, when she moved her hands away, they were sticky with blood, and it took her a second to realise that the window was also cracked and covered in blood from the force of her hitting it. She was going to ask Michael to stop the car because she felt light headed, but she knew a concussion was probably better than a few years in prison. Huh, she was kind of starting to understand her husband.

Once they had finally lost the cops, Michael began to slow down, and turned around to get a proper look at Amanda. He had heard her head crash against the window, but had no idea the extent of Amanda's injury.

"Is that it? Are they gone?" She asked.

"Of course they're gone, who are you talkin' to? Come on I'll take you back to the house." Michael said, almost smugly.

Amanda noticed how he never called their house a home.

Michael saw the discarded handcuffs on the seat beside Amanda and smirked to himself as he reminisced one of his favourite stripper routines performed by his wife back in Ludendorff.

"You remember those, don't ya? From the old days, when you used to do the girl cop routine?"

He could call Amanda all the names he wanted, but he knew he could never call her ugly because it simply wasn't true. She was the most attractive stripper at the club, scratch that, she was probably the most attractive woman that Michael had ever met. Sure, he may cheat on her all the time with prostitutes, whore's, and anything else he could find roaming the streets of LS, but it wasn't because they were more appealing to him with Amanda, the girl just refused to have sex with him.

"Really? Now? You're a pig." Amanda said with a roll of her eyes as she slouched into the seat, the throbbing pain in her head beginning to come irritable.

"Don't say it."

"Say what?" Michael replied.

"That I have everything I want, so why am I stealing?"

"Oh, my lips are sealed!"

"Cos if you say that, I'll say the same to you."

Okay, now Michael was confused. Does she want him to ask her why she's stealing or not? Why are women so confusing?

"I'm not sayin' anything...I'm just doing my best to keep us out of jail."

"I mean who are you to judge me?"

Okay, now it was clear to Michael that Amanda just wanted an argument out of this. She was never fully satisfied.

"Oh, I'm not judging, no, not at all."

"You're loving this, aren't you?" Amanda sneered.

"Oh yeah. Risking prison, getting shot at. Love, love, big love." He replied sarcastically.

"So this is what it's like to be you." Amanda muttered, although she was more speaking to herself than speaking to Michael. Nevertheless, he gave her an answer.

"Ah, not really, honey. See, I'm a semi-successful crook. You're a bit of a failure. But hey, kudos for trying."

"Not that successful if you're in witness protection." Amanda fired back.

"Well, I've got an idea. Why don't we see what Agent Dave and the FIB think of this lovers on the run act?" Michael questioned as they pulled up to the house. Realistically, he would've preferred to take her to the hospital to get her head injury checked out, but he knew Amanda would only refuse, and he still needed to get rid of the cop car.

Amanda got out of the car and began stumbling up the driveway, holding on to walls and even bushes for support, which made Michael sigh, as he knew he couldn't just watch her struggle, and got out of the car to help her. You could probably imagine her surprise when Amanda was suddenly lifted off her feet and carried bridal style into the house. She was going to protest, but not only did she not have the energy, she knew that refusing Michael's help would've only resulted in her passing out before she reached the front door.

Once they reached their bedroom, Michael set her down on the bed as gently as he could without knocking her head. Amanda grumbled at him, still too stubborn to admit she needed help, and sat there throwing insults at him as he just watched her with a raised eyebrow. However, as he turned to leave, Amanda muttered something so quietly that Michael thought he was imagining it.

"Oh, and yeah...thank you."


	8. SINK OR SWIM

_**Vinewood, Los Santos, June of 2013** _

"The fuck is this shit?"

Michael had just come home from a stressful morning, and all he wanted to do was unwind and day-drink his problems away. He had poured himself a glass of whiskey, he even offered Amanda one, but all the stress that had slipped away with that drink came rushing back the minute he opened his fridge and saw a very large quantity of weed in it.

Usually, he wouldn't mind. He knows its Jimmy's weed, hell, Michael even smokes with him sometimes, but today was just not Michael's day, and somebody needed to feel his wrath.

"Is that yours?" Amanda asked. It wouldn't surprise her, Michael loves weed more than he loves his own kids.

"Course not." Michael said before throwing the block of weed to her - which was wrapped with a plastic seal. Amanda turned it in her hands for a moment before she huffed and threw it back to him.

"I've only got myself to blame for the mess these kids are in," Amanda muttered with a sigh as she put Michael's whiskey bottle back.

Michael glared at her, but didn't say anything.

"You are either drunk, or staring miserably at the clouds or you're out there doing God only knows what." Amanda stated, now pouring herself a glass of whiskey. Probably not the wisest idea before yoga.

"Oh yeah, I done horrible by you," Michael said, "pulled you out of a Midwestern trailer park, got you a big mansion in Rockford Hills- hell, the only thing you gotta worry about anymore is what part of your body you want to have chopped off or sucked out again."

Amanda sighed, knowing that in a fucked up way, Michael was right. He had taken her away from the horrors of the trailer park, provided her with a home and a family, and the only thing she did really need to worry about right now was if she wanted another boob job. However, Michael was also wrong, because not only did Amanda fear for his safety on a daily basis, she also never asked to move here. She was happy in Ludendorff, so were the kids, it was his own stupid fault for getting caught doing a bank job. So yeah, in Amanda's eyes, he had 'done horrible' by her.

"Screw you, Michael."

"Ah, but you won't."

"I was faithful to you up until I found you in a stripper." Amanda snapped, her eyes misty with tears. Michael looked at her, feeling guilty because he knew she was telling the truth, and turned to find some more whiskey before he was tempted to say sorry.

"I would divorce your ass if I could, you are nothing but a murdering, cheating, hypocrite! Thank you, Michael, whatever the fuck our fake last name is, you have ruined my serenity yet again. My yoga is fucked!"

"Oh, is that what they're calling it now? You and your fucking yoga!" Michael shouted, stepping closer to Amanda with every word he said, up until they were face to face and Michael could see all the emotion swimming in Amanda's eyes. Anger, sadness, shame, frustration. And Michael was the only one to blame for it.

"Did somebody say yoga?" Fabien, the yoga instructor, said as he walked in. Michael watched Amanda's face immediately light up as she grinned at him. Ah, so that's whats going on here.

"Oh, hello Fabien darling."

Yuck, Michael thought.

He missed when Amanda used to call him that.

They both greeted each other with their namaste bullshit, before Fabien turned to Michael.

"You must be Mickelle," Fabien said, purposely mispronouncing his name, "namaste."

Michael looked him up and down, before turning away.

"Na-ma go fuck yourself."

"Michael!" Amanda scolded.

"You've got to work on your anger, brother," Fabien said calmly, "it's killing you."

"Tell me about it- ah, there you are ya little shit." Michael said smugly as Jimmy walked into the room, evidently looking for his big fuck off bag of weed.

"You lookin' for this?" Michael asked, waving it above Jimmy's head, but pulling away when his son reached for it with a little 'ah, ah' noise.

"Very funny, you know, you're a real asshole." Jimmy said.

"What did you just fuckin' say to me?" Michael asked as he stormed up to Jimmy, the same way he did to his wife earlier, as Jim started backing away.

"Stop it you two, you're ruining my fucking yoga!" Amanda interrupted.

"Did somebody say yoga?"

Michael's heart dropped.

Fuck that, it fell out of his ass.

It was almost ten years ago since he last saw Trevor. Almost 10 years since that fateful night in Ludendorff, which lead to Michael and his family's life changing forever. And even now, after the wit-sec, the deal with the FIB, going into hiding, Trevor Philips had still found a way to be stood in his kitchen during a family argument.

Michael's eyes darted to the side, and he saw Amanda turn pale. He knew she was scared of him, and Michael feared it ran much deeper than just Trevor being a psychopath. He'd ask her later.

"Trevor?"

"Michael..."

"Hey...it's good to see you, man."

It's not. It's really not. Michael just couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Hmm, I bet it is. Course, I'm not the one that's been...resurrected. Ain't this grand?"

"Yeah well...I got in a bit of an awkward situation."

Amanda internally face palmed. Awkward, Michael? You failed robbing a bank. That's just plain stupidness.

"Hmm, you're telling me bro. One of those 'fake your own death to your best buddy and then run off with the dough, and then live in a big mansion' awkward situations?" Trevor asked, anger evident in his voice.

"That's one way of lookin' at it." Michael muttered.

"Yeah? Do you have any other ways of looking at it? Cos I am all out." Trevor replied, his hands curling into fists.

"It was a long time ago man, I've been in witness protection. I still am." Michael said calmly.

"Thats great, that's greatttt."

A minute of awkward silence passed. This has to be one of the weirdest and scariest experiences Amanda has ever had.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, where are my manners, right?" Trevor spoke up.

Oh god.

"Amanda, it is good to see you. I missed you. You used to be fatter. Nice new tits, by the way."

For once, Amanda felt good about herself. That was the first compliment she received in a long time. Maybe Trevor wouldn't be so bad after all.

Who was she kidding? Trevor was a dick.

"Jimmy! You, you used to be thinner. But, ah, can't blame you."

Jimmy subconsciously wrapped his arms around his stomach. Maybe he should start going on those bike rides with his dad.

Trevor spotted Fabien lurking against a wall and strolled up to him, making sure he was as close as he could be without Fabien turning around and punching him.

"Who are you?" Trevor asked.

"Namaste, I'm Fabien." He replied, trying not to let his fear and utter confusion show in his voice.

"Ah, good lord..." Trevor breathed as he looked the yoga instructor up and down. Maybe they'd fuck soon.

"Where's Tracey?"

Tracey was by far Trevor's favourite Townley. She was smart, beautiful, and maybe in another life, Trevor would've kidnapped her and raised her as his own daughter. Michael didn't know what to do with her most of the time as a kid, usually handing her off for Trevor to take care of while he found a stripper to satisfy him. This led to Trevor growing attached to her, so you can imagine his sadness when he learned Amanda had moved with the kids after Michael 'died'. But, Trevor knew he could never be a father, so for the time being, Tracey was just his niece and Trevor was her 'creepy' uncle.

"Where's your sister, Jim?" Michael asked, turning to his son.

Ah, so things haven't changed, Trevor thought. He was still palming her off to anyone he could so he could drink and smoke in peace. What would Amanda think if she knew what Michael was really doing when he was taking Tracey 'shopping' as a kid?

"Um, she's uh, um...she's tryin' out for TV."

Now everyone in the room was looking at Jimmy, because what the fuck did Tracey think she was doing, and why did Jimmy not thing to mention this beforehand?

"She's what?" Michael asked, dumbfounded.

"Yeah, she's auditioning for Fame or Shame."

"Fame or Shame?" Trevor gawked.

"The fuck are you talkin' about?"

"You know, it's that talent slash skill show," Jimmy said, "she loves it you guys know that."

"What's her talent?" Michael said. The girl could gossip for days, but apart from that she didn't really have anything else going for her.

"Dancing?"

"Oh, Christ, she's a horrible dancer." Michael said in disbelief.

"Michael..." Amanda trailed off. Yes, he was right, but shouldn't he atleast try to encourage his kids to do what they wanted? She was sure she'd read that in a book somewhere.

"She might disagree with you on that."

After getting Jimmy to spit out the when and the where's of what Tracey was doing, Michael took off, followed by Trevor. Jimmy awkwardly waved at his mom before heading back to his room, and Fabien walked to the back garden to set up the yoga mats.

Amanda sat at the kitchen table and rubbed her face with her hands, unsure of what to do. Their life's had already been flipped forever, but was there about to be another big change?

Whatever it was, Amanda did not want to be there when it happened.


	9. DONE AND DUSTED

**_Vinewood, Los Santos, September of 2013_ **

"What is wrong with you smoking in my house?"

Michael actually hadn't done anything wrong today, he was just lazing on the sofa watching TV. He hadn't had to clean up any of Trevor's mess, deal with Franklin, or speak to the kids, so today was going really well. He hadn't even touched his whiskey.

He also had no idea why Amanda was suddenly putting a stop to smoking in the house. She did it more than he did, especially after she'd took her never-ending doses of medication.

"You know, ever since that psychotic pal of yours turned up, you've turned into an even bigger asshole." Amanda said as she picked Michael's joint out of his hands and flicked it in a week old glass of whiskey that sat on the table.

"Your support in my difficult times means the world to me." Michael replied, rolling his eyes.

"I've supported you. I left everything to come here with you!" Amanda fired back, her arms folded over her chest.

Michael just blinked. He couldn't really argue with that.

"And still, that crazy bastard turns up," she droned on.

She's looking for an argument, Michael thought, don't rise to it.

Did Michael ever listen to himself?

No.

"I'll handle it." Michael said dismissively.

"How?" Amanda asked.

"I don't know."

Amanda rolled her eyes and began to walk to the kitchen, as she heard Tracey upstairs on the phone laughing away at something. No, she decided, she wouldn't let Trevor anywhere near her not-so-little babies. She'd do anything to keep them safe, even if it meant putting herself in danger.

"Just keep him away from me and the children, you low life, whore-mongering ass-wipe."

Jimmy laughed from upstairs. That's probably the best insult his mom has ever come up with.

"Did somebody say yoga?" Fabien asked with a smile as he came inside from setting the yoga mats up. Seriously, how is this dude getting in the house without Michael seeing him?

"Nah, I think she said 'whore-mongering ass-wipe'." Michael said sarcastically.

Amanda ignored her husband, instead choosing to sweet talk that definitely-gay yoga coach with the namaste bullshit again. Michael has had quite enough of this.

"Oh yeah, she's very centred. A regular oasis of peace and tranquility, this one."

Michael will tell people he wasn't jealous of that sausage-loving wife-fucking money-robbing piece of shit. He was jealous.

"Do you see what I live with? A gorilla with anger issues and worse friends, no wonder I'm so upset." Amanda shouted over him, her eyes clouding with tears.

"You two! Please," Fabien said, "namaste."

Amanda repeated the greeting back to Fabien before throwing her arms back, pushing her chest forward and tilting her head up, letting out a long, deep breath. Michael just raised an eyebrow at her, not sure wether she was just trying to look good for Fabien - and succeeding, may he add - or wether she was actually into this yoga bullshit.

"We practice. Mickell, join us, please."

And there it was again, the mention of his name and suddenly all that stress and anger came flowing back through Amanda's veins.

"No! Please, no." Amanda begged. Fabien just dismissed her and mumbled on about yoga being shared. Michael didn't care, he thought it was bull anyway.

"So, Fab," Michael started as they walked outside, a reluctant Amanda following close behind, "if you can make me as happy and mellow as my wife, it'll be a job well fuckin' done."

"We are all on our own journey's, Mickell."

"Man, no doubt, so why's she driving a tank on hers?" Michael asked.

Amanda opened her mouth to say something in protest, but Fabien put his hand up as if to tell her not to rise to it. Cheeky bastard, Michael would argue with his wife if he wanted to.

"Perhaps to deal with your hostility, Michael." Fabien said.

First of all, what?

Second of all, what?

Not only had Fabien just said his name correctly, he also accused Michael of being hostile with Amanda, which definitely wasn't true. Just because they couldn't have a conversation without arguing, slept at opposite sides of the bed, and avoided each other like the plague, didn't mean that Michael was hostile.

Fine, it does, but then that means Amanda would have to be equally if not more hostile.

"Now, here is good. We have the sun and the murribunda. The asshole!" Fabien exclaimed.

Did Michael hear that last part right?

"Now, we begin, and put the asshole to the earth."

Okay, this dude has got to be gay, or atleast bi. What's his obsession with assholes?

Michael sniggered at the thought of Trevor trying to do yoga. He was too high for this.

After he had completed the tasks that Fabien had asked of him, and ignoring Amanda's attempts to ruin what was left of his self esteem, he finally finished his last pose and stood upright, taking in a deep breath.

Not because Fabien had told him to, because he was fucking exhausted.

"You have come a long way today Mickell!" Fabien shouted, "Yes, later you will cry like a baby."

"Yeah, right," Michael said as he shrugged Fabien's arm off. He got that the guy was trying to be nice, but he couldn't really see past the fact that he was probably banging his wife.

"His chakras are completely blocked, don't worry about him." Amanda huffed. Her one time where she could be at peace and not have to worry about her husband or what danger he may be in, and it was ruined.

"Show me the downward dog." Fabien said.

Michael's jaw dropped.

The downward what?

Amanda got into the position with ease, which impressed Michael at first, he genuinely didn't know his wife was still this flexible. However, when Fabien started rambling and then positioned himself where his pelvis would meet Amanda's ass, his hands going to her hips, Michael started seeing red.

"What'd you say?" Michael asked, his voice laced with anger.

"Your sexual energies have been blocked for too long," Fabien replied as he instructed Amanda, "Back into my pelvis. Back, back, back, yes..."

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Hey, enough of that shit!" Michael fumed, lunging at Fabien to tackle him into the pool. However, Fabien moved at the last second and used his arm to shove Michael forwards into the pool.

Michael, now soaked and absolutely furious, looked at his wife with a fire in his eyes that she hadn't seen since the night they had left Ludendorff.

"Yoga is the answer Mickell, but what is the question?" Fabien asked, almost as if he was amused by the situation.

"Err, why am I such a moron?" Michael replied as he scrambled to get out of the pool to try and talk to Amanda without this asshole having a say. However, Michael could see she had different plans when she grabbed Fabien's arm and looked back at Michael with the same angry flame in her eye that he had.

"We are leaving and we are never coming back!" She exclaimed.

"Good!" Michael replied.

"You are alone, you pathetic psychopath."

Okay, Michael wasn't gonna lie, that one hurt. He thought that Amanda would atleast stay to talk things out or let the kids know what was happening, but the fact that she would leave him without even thinking twice cut Michael deep. He knew that she would forever be pissed about Ludendorff, but is she really going to keep holding this grudge against him? And besides, she's the one in the wrong here, she was practically dry humping Fabien!

Michael sometimes neglects the fact that he was the one who cheated on her first.

"Fuck you! And that phony French fucking yogi." Michael said as he watched them both disappear down the side of the house. Amanda flipped him off but didn't look back, and it was only then that Michael realised he was absolutely drenched.

But it didn't matter, because if he wanted to make shit right, he wanted to do it today. He would start with his only son, Jimmy, the only person in the house that would tolerate Michael for more than 30 seconds, maybe because they both had the same habits of smoking weed all day and killing people to get what they wanted. Only difference was that Jimmy did it via a game, and his dad did it in real life.

"Jimmy, you still here?" Michael asked.

No response.

"James?"

"Fuck off!"

Michael knew that would work. Jimmy hated being called by his real name.

"Oh yeah, fuck you." Jimmy said as Michael wandered into his bedroom, "You know what? If there was a rape button, I'd be using it right now. Unless you're a faggot and you like that sort of shit. And then I'll just rape your mom instead."

All Michael could do was blink.

He might wanna teach Jim why what he just said was wrong on every single level.

"Nice TV, did I pay for that?"

Jimmy rolled his eyes. Michael already knew the answer to that.

"Yeah, you smashed the other one, didn't you?"

"Alright come on, I wanna go for a ride." Michael said.

"I gotta meet a friend."

"Alright, so I'll go meet him with you. Come on, I wanna get out of the house, and I'm not going alone."

"Come onnn! This is fucking bullshit!" Jimmy stropped, but followed his dad downstairs anyway.

"Bullshit? Threatening to molest your online buddies is bullshit."

"They're not my buddies."

"They're the only people you speak to."

Jimmy sighed and opened his car door, Michael not far behind. Before long, Michael was just waiting on his gate to open, and he couldn't help but glance at the space where his wife's car would've been. He's out all day and night and never spares her a thought, so why is it when she's the one MIA, it's all he can think about?

Wow, he was starting to understand how she felt on a daily basis and he fucking hated it.

"So, where's your friend?" Michael asked.

"Burger shot."

"Yeah, nice to see the kids are still hanging out at the burger joints. Me and the guys, we'd go down to the diner after class everyday, you know, get milkshakes...fries..."

"Ew. Please. You know, you're really creeping me out."

"I'm trying to relate to you."

"No, you're trying to take me on some nostalgia trip. You're such a cliche."

"Oh! Says the dope-smoking, game-playing, live-at-home, world-owes-him-a-living millennial!" Michael snapped.

"I knew it! I knew it! The mask was gonna slip. The monster's been exposed!"

"The hell are you talkin' about?"

"The real you! That bitter, vindictive old man. You pretend you're being a father, but you hate me, don't you?"

"I don't hate you Jim, how many times? I love you."

Jimmy sighed and turned his head back towards the road, knowing he couldn't really argue with that. After meeting with his friend and being thankful that Michael wasn't being weird or tried killing the dude, he insisted that they 'bounce.'

"Bounce? We're bouncing now? Is that what we're doing? Jesus fucking christ." Michael grumbled as they pulled out of the parking lot and started driving down the road.

"Alrighty then, now what?" Michael asked.

"Can we just get back to the house please?" Jimmy said in a whiny voice before pulling his phone out. Michael could see just out of the corner of his eye that he texted Tracey about 'everything going well so far,' and then read a message from Amanda that stated she had just got back to the house with a clearer mind and that she wanted to take Jimmy out for lunch later. Jimmy grinned and replied with a 'sure, mom' before slipping his phone away.

"So uhh, wanna drink?" Jimmy asked to break the silence.

"I'm driving." Michael replied.

"Because normally you're such a between-the-white-lines, 'friend to the pedestrian' kind of guy." Jimmy said sarcastically.

"Fine, give it here." Michael said, holding his hand out for the bottle. Once Jimmy had passed it to him, he didn't hesitate before gulping half the bottle down, something he would come to regret later. He shoved it back in the direction of his son before returning both hands to the steering wheel and trying his best to focus on getting home without crashing.

And then it hit him.

The bitterness of pills in his mouth.

The drink was laced.

"Okay, your turn." Michael growled, knowing what his son had done but just couldn't think of why.

"Maybe when we get home." Jimmy said.

"Who's the square now?" Michael chuckled.

And then, everything changed. His voice felt ten times deeper, like he had taken on the voice of a gorilla, and if that wasn't enough, he could barely see. The world had turned purple, and it looked like it was bouncing the way bass does on a speaker. Whatever the fuck was happening to him, just meant that he wouldn't be able to get home without some sort of accident happening.

"I'm starting to feel a little woozy."

"You're fine." Jimmy said.

"No. Really, this is not normal."

"Chill out, you're just paranoid."

"This is not paranoia. This is totally justified concern." Michael said as all feeling in his body began to slip away.

"You should see yourself." Jimmy laughed.

"Whoa. Seriously, whoa."

"I gotta stop. What's even in that thing?" Michael asked as he pulled over, his head resting in his hands.

"It's harmless, vet's have been using it for decades."

Michael's first thought was ketamine, which is horse tranquilliser, and also a common drug in LS. But if it was ket, why could Michael taste pills?

"What? You anaesthetised me, you fucking shit?"

"I'm protecting you from yourself," Jimmy said as he shoved Michael out of the car, "also, I took money from your bank account and I'm moving out, alright?"

"What?" Michael panicked as he felt his body crash against the concrete pavement. He moved to get up, but he found himself at a loss of energy and he couldn't feel his limbs at all, so just staying here would have to do till the drug left his system.

"You're too crazy, Dad. Bye!"

And with that, Jimmy sped off with the car, leaving Michael stranded in what he figured out was a road not too far from home. Maybe he could crawl there if he tried.

But he blacked out before he had the chance.

Michael woke in a different place than what he remembered falling asleep, although it was only maybe two streets away. He was dressed in nothing but his boxers, and considering he was wearing a shirt and shorts earlier, this panicked him.

After throwing his guts up and cursing out Jimmy for a solid 10 minutes, he figured he should move from the grass he was laid on before the cops were called for a very drugged up man committing the oh-so-awful crime of public indecency. He stood up, hopped on the yellow bike leaned against the wall of a house that he didn't recognise, and began the short journey back home.

Amanda's gonna love this, he thought in his head as he pulled up to the house.

But as he parked the bike, he realised that Amanda's car was missing, which confused him as she had only said a few minutes ago to Jimmy that she was back home.

Or maybe it was a few hours ago? Days? Weeks? Months? Michael had no perception of time anymore, and as much as he would love to check his phone, it was in the pocket of the same shorts that had disappeared.

"Hello? I'm back!" Michael exclaimed as he strolled through his house, voice raspy.

Silence.

Seriously? Were they going to do this every single time he walked in? Just ignore him, like he didn't exist at all?

He shrugged but said nothing, immediately reaching for the bottle of whisky that sat on the kitchen island. But, just as he was about to take a drink, he spotted a piece of paper at the side of it with 'AMANDA' written in big capital letters on the bottom.

He picked up the note, and began to read.

" _Michael,_

_I think you've finally lost your mind._

_Your recent behaviour and the company you've been keeping already had me very concerned. Now you've taken to attacking Fabien, who's a close friend, then Jimmy said you took drugs while driving him in your car. We've decided to move out for a while. You promised me you'd change, and you haven't changed a bit. I know you say I always act like I'm in a movie, well this isn't that. I think I'm gonna speak to a lawyer, I'm just really confused. Please don't try to contact us and try not to get yourself killed._

_\- AMANDA."_

Michael screwed up the paper into the ball and slammed it on the floor, letting a stream of curses leave his mouth before he finally decided to take his anger out on the nearest chair, flipping it over. He wanted to cry, wanted to bawl his eyes out and phone his wife and beg for her to come home to him. He missed them. He missed the family he had in Ludendorff, before he fucked everything up and made Amanda hate him.

He missed Amanda the most, and she hadn't even been gone that long. In that moment, as he stood looking at the scrunched up piece of paper, Michael made a vow to himself that he would do whatever it would take for Amanda to love him again in the way she did when they were all each other had in Ludendorff.


	10. ALIVE

**_Rockford Hills Hotel, Los Santos, October of 2013_ **

_"Hello? Who's this?"_

_"It's Amanda. Amanda De Santa. We met at my house."_

_"Oh yeah. Uhh, shit. Where you at?"_

_"Look, I know that you and my husband, and Trevor Philips...I don't know what the fuck you're up to, but I can make a pretty good guess. There's some weird things going on. Is he okay?"_

_"I don't think okay is the right word, but he's alive. You should call him. He'll appreciate that."_

_"I don't want to speak to him. I just wanted to know he wasn't dead somewhere. Thanks. Don't tell him I called."_

_"Alright. But look, he ain't doing too good without his family."_

Amanda hung up before she was tempted to ask where Michael was.


	11. THERAPY

_**Vinewood, Los Santos, January of 2014** _

"Hey!"

Michael was startled awake by the sound of his sons voice ripping through the silence of the house. His family had been gone for almost 4 months, and at this point he'd already come to terms with the fact that they probably wouldn't be coming back. But, with Jimmy stood in his doorway holding a set of car keys and a shit eating grin, Michael's hopes were back up - and he hadn't even fully opened his eyes yet.

"Huh? What? Oh, hey."

"Look, I'm sorry I spiked you, okay? I just, I get so mad and I can't control things, and then, you know, shit just falls on top of me, my life sucks right now, and I don't know what to do except- I wanna say I love you and hug it out but all that wimpy shit is just...well, I'd say gay but I have some friends who are gay so that's not cool anymore and the one's I don't really like it's not cos they're gay so..lame!"

Michael opened his mouth to speak, but Jimmy still wasn't done.

"Alright? You are just a lame and angry psycho sometimes. You do bad shit and things, and I don't know if I love you and I'm pretty sure I hate you a little bit, but I'm just so fucking upset that we can't even see each other, and you're just a...drunk, lame, dad."

Jimmy finally let his lungs catch some air. He didn't even know he could talk that much.

"You know what? That might just be the nicest thing anybody's ever said to me."

"So, will you buy me a car?"

Michael rolled his eyes. How did he know that was coming?

"What?"

"I mean, not in the 'so, will you buy me a car' kinda way, in a completely off topic 'can you buy me a car?' I mean, firstly I'm a fat shit that you ruined. And secondly, I will get a job and I will stop smoking pot in that sorta way, okay?"

"I love you too son. Now, go and get a job, cos I don't have the money to buy you a car. Besides, I'm probably gonna be dead in a couple of weeks anyway."

"Please don't die, okay?"

Michael sighed.

"Y'know, it was great catching up with you dad."

"Yeah."

Michael watched Jimmy walk away from him and towards the front door, and Michael knew what he had to do. There was no way he was letting go of his family that easily.

"Hey, how's your mother?"

"Oh, she's great."

Michael raised an eyebrow. Jimmy huffed.

"No she's not, she's bored. I mean, all this mesmerising, tantric sex she's been having with a much younger, better built, caring and compassionate man, it's great and all, but what's she gonna do for the other six hours of the day?"

"What the fuck?" Michael seethed, his fists curled into balls.

"I'm just winding you up, you miserable bastard. She's mad at you. She's scared that you're gonna die, and she wants you to go over there and prove that you give a fuck."

"Alright! I can take a fucking hint, let's go. We can pick up Tracey on the way."

"Tracey on the other hand...she's a star, sort of."

Michael just rolled his eyes and followed Jimmy out of the house, thinking about the fact that in the space of 5 minutes he'd gone from drinking his life away to going and getting his wife back. Obviously he was elated that she even wanted him to see her in the first place, but a part of him was still anxious that he'd get rejected. Who'd have thought that after nearly 25 years of marriage, Amanda would still make him nervous?

After pulling out of the driveway, Jimmy informed Michael that his mother was at Bean Machine with that insufferable yoga teacher. They attempted small talk, but they both knew there were way too many issues weighing them down to indulge in such normal things.

One short drive later, and Michael was pulling up to Bean Machine where he spotted Amanda straight away. She looked furious, he could tell with how her jaw was clenched, but she still kept that million dollar smile on her face as Fabien kept verbally abusing her. Knowing he couldn't hold it off any longer, he walked up to the table where she was seated, with Jimmy following close behind.

"Ugh, excuse me, I'm trying to write a screenplay here."

"Shush woman!" Fabien shouted to the stuck-up script writer before turning back to Amanda.

"Hey Amanda, Fabien." Michael said, trying his best to be nice without punching that shit loving prick in the face.

"Hi mom." Jimmy said, sticking out from behind Michael with a little wave.

"Hi Jimmy." She replied with a smile.

"These two, a picture of holistic wellbeing, I don't think."

"Hey-"

"Maybe they shit once a year between them." Fabien said, cutting Michael off.

"Hey, that's my son!" Amanda said, her wide smile now falling off her face as she tried to suppress her anger.

"Amanda, come. I have a new unitard on hold, you must pay for it."

"Hey! Buddy!" Michael shouted, slamming his hands down on the table, making Fabien sink back down into his seat, "I'm going to ask politely that you show my wife a little respect."

"Red meat has been blocking your chi as well as your digestive tract."

"I ain't even gonna go there." Michael said with a shake of his head, "I'm gonna ask you one time, nicely-"

"Michael just hit him, please."

"Shhhh!"

"Shush woman!"

"Anything for you, sweetheart." Michael said before grabbing the script writer's precious laptop and hitting Fabien around the side of the head with it, knocking him over almost immediately. He curled up on the floor, groaning and cradling his now bleeding ear, as Michael and Jimmy hovered over him.

"There's a lot more where that came from, homes." Jimmy said smugly.

"Is he alive?" Amanda asked as she sipped on her coffee, almost as if she was bored and this was a routine checkup she had to do with every man she left her husband for. Michael kicked Fabien, who let out a loud groan, before turning to Amanda.

"Yeah, he's fine. Listen, Amanda, I wanted...I've been meaning to say to you...Look, I just-"

"What he's trying to say, mom, is that he is a pathetic, old, drunken mess, and he needs you. And, you could do a lot better than a prima donna yoga instructor with an anal fixation."

"Did someone say..." Fabien groaned.

"Shut up." Jimmy said, kicking him in the face.

Amanda sighed and put her coffee down on the table, looking at her son, then Fabien, then Michael.

"I guess we could try."

"All I'm asking for is a shot."

Amanda stood up and jabbed a finger at Michael's chest, sending a spark of hope through him. It was the same spark he felt when they met over 25 years ago, but because the only time they've touched since Ludendorff is when she shoves him during an argument, it felt ten times bigger and ten times stronger. He knew Amanda felt it too, he could see by the look on her face, but he also knew they couldn't sit here and poke each other to feel that spark forever. They had a marriage to fix.

"Neutral ground. Dr. Friedlander's office."

"It's perfect. All of us. I'll pick up Tracey and bring her there. Meet you?" Michael replied.

"Fine," she said softly before turning to Fabien, "alright you, come on, get up, you idiot."

Since he made no signs of movement, Amanda grabbed him by the arm and pulled him up, dragging him down the steps and towards her car.

"...Yoga?"

"No, no yoga."

After Amanda had dropped Fabien off at his office and Michael had picked Tracey up, as well as assaulting Lazlow in unimaginable ways, he finally pulled up outside the doctors office with the kids where his wife was already waiting, finishing the coffee she never got to finish at Bean Machine.

They walked in silence up to the office, but at the last minute Michael's nerves got to him and he felt like he had to say something, because of course this would've never been some normal family session. He was replying with sarcasm to everything Amanda said right up until they sat in the leather seats, when Amanda knew she had to say something before she let her rage get the better of her.

"Give it up Michael, the sarcasm? It's one of the reasons I moved out. It's beneath you." Amanda said, turning to her husband.

"No, it's not Amanda, trust me, nothings beneath me." He replied.

"No, normally there's a whore beneath you."

Jimmy and Tracey's eyes both widened as they shuffled closer to each other at the opposite end of the couch. So that's how this was going.

"You know, for someone who spends every waking moment working on themselves 'inside and out', I gotta tell ya the progress has been really fuckin' slow."

"How would you know what progress is like, you stupid murdering shit?"

Jimmy was pretty sure if he shuffled any closer to the edge of the couch he was going to fall off.

"Ah, gee, because all you do is whine at me."

"Oh, all I do is whine? Michael, could you please stop murdering people? Michael, could you please stop endangering me and the both of your children? You kill people and then you sit in the sun and drink and feel guilty about it! That is not work!"

"I don't see you complaining on the way to the fucking bank!" Michael snapped.

For a moment, the only noise that could be heard was the kids tapping away on their phones as Tracey shuffled impossibly closer to Jimmy who was still trying to shuffle away from his parents. It wasn't working.

"I mean let's face it, Amanda, we're trailer trash, you and me. We were taught to do this." Michael said, his voice hoarse from shouting.

"Get a centre, Michael. You have no centre." She replied calmly.

"How about you suck my cock? Huh? No wait, we'll both get a centre before that ever happens." Michael shouted as he stood up, thrusting his pelvic area forward as everyone looked at him in shock, especially Amanda, who was mortified and a tiny bit turned on.

"You are such a fucking animal, a deranged animal!"

"You're fuckin' A-right I'm deranged! How could I not be?" He practically roared. Tracey, who was now sat directly beside him as a result of knowing that she couldn't shuffle her way out of family therapy, clamped her hands over her ears while Jimmy kept tapping away on his phone.

"I should have had you locked up years ago, you stupid shit."

"Do it! Do it. I'll put you in the fucking ground with the rest of 'em."

And as soon as Michael said that, he regretted it. He could see the hurt look on Amanda's face mixed with her anger, fear, and was that arousal he could see swimming in her eyes? Maybe they should have full on screaming matches more often.

As they left the building, Michael decided to speak to Amanda whilst none of the kids or a doctor were sat there to listen. So, he did what any rational human being would do and grab her wrist without warning. She spun around, startled, but relaxed when she saw it was Michael. She didn't make any move to tear away from his grip like she usually does though, Michael noticed. As long as they were touching, there was that same spark from before flowing between them. It was addictive.

"So are you gonna come home with me or what?" He asked.

Amanda looked thoughtful for a minute, considering the fact that for the first time since they moved, he had just called their house a home, before she looked back at him.

"I guess we'll give it a try."

"Alright then." Michael said before reluctantly letting go of her so she could get the kids in the car. It was a bit of a lengthy journey home, and the pair knew they still had a lot to talk about, but by the time they had got to Rockford Hills, all their worries seemed to wash away as Amanda realised something.

"I started to understand something in there," Amanda said, turning to her husband, "no-one else gets this family."

Michael raised an eyebrow at her, "I'm listening."

"Not Dr. Friedlander, or my yoga teacher, or our tennis coach, or the juice guy, or the dog walker, or..."

"Whoa, hey, hey..." Michael said. If she's just listing all the people she's cheated on him with, they could be here all day. Michael couldn't say anything though, his list's probably about a week long.

"Or Jimmy's third grade teacher..."

"Or the trash guy..." Jimmy said.

"Or Dad's proctologist..." Tracey butted in.

"Or the guy who thinks he's Jesus on Vespucci Beach."

That one almost made Michael chuckle. Amanda definitely had a strange taste in men.

"We're stuck with each other."

And in the most fucked up way possible, Michael couldn't agree more.


	12. STUCK WITH EACHOTHER

_"We can do this. I know now that this family is too irreparably damaged to have any hope of a normal relationship with anyone else. We're stuck with each other, and that's as close to an 'I love you' as I've been in very long time."_

**\- Amanda De Santa, LifeInvader.**


	13. MELTDOWN

_**Vinewood, Los Santos, May of 2014** _

"Tracey! Hair curlers!"

"On it, mom!"

This was it. This was the night of Michael's movie premier. For years, Michael had talked Amanda to sleep rambling about his dreams of being a movie producer, and tonight she would walk the red carpet, unified with her family, to celebrate her husbands success. Of course, her and Tracey were high maintenance women and could never be on time for everything, so now they were running around the house in the most expensive dresses they could find, on a hunt for the hair curlers.

"Mom, I found them!"

"Okay sweetie, coming!"

But, as Amanda begun her ascend upstairs to Tracey's room, the main doors burst open and atleast 6 armoured men ran inside. Immediately, Amanda filled with fear, and made a run for Tracey's room in order to protect her, but she was just a little too late. One of the men tackled Amanda on the stairs, knocking her over and completely squeezing the breath out of her. The man then locked his arm around her neck and dragged her up, and made her watch as another armoured man made a dash to Tracey's room. Amanda wanted to fight, wanted to kick and scream and beg them not to hurt her child, but there was nothing she could do.

She should blame Michael for this, she definitely could. But, with all the family's previous indiscretions and wrongdoings in order to protect themselves, it was bound to catch up to them. She could've left Michael the night they fled Ludendorff to protect the children, but she made the selfish decision to stay with him. She chose him over them. This was her fault as much as it was his.

As soon as she felt the cold, hard metal that was unmistakably a gun pressed to her head, she gave up all hope. She came to terms with the fact she wasn't going to make it, but still her body fought against a fight it knew she wouldn't win. Her eyes blurred with tears, and as she looked down at her gorgeous red dress, her heart broke. If she was going to die, she at least wanted to die with the promise that Michael would avenge her death.

And as if the God's had heard her, the man himself came hurling through the doors in a tuxedo that made him look delectable, and a pistol that made him look even better.

"Daddy's home!" He shouted as he aimed at the man behind Amanda.

Amanda felt the gun press harder against her skull as she wrestled to break free.

There was a gun shot.

She's dead now.

But yet, she wasn't.

The arm that was locked so tightly around her let loose, and she felt herself breathe again. She glanced down at her neon red dress, now splattered in blood, then at Michael who looked at her with such sorrow in his eyes that Amanda completely forgot what was happening.

Then her eyes widened.

Tracey.

"One of them's in there with Tracey!" She cried, running upstairs towards Tracey's room, "We gotta get in there Michael, he's in there with our girl!"

_Amanda sat on the rocking chair besides Tracey's crib, willing her crying baby to go to sleep. She cradled her newborn in her arms, letting a tear slip down her cheek as exhaustion overwhelmed her body._

_She stroked her child's cheek, smiling despite her baby's wailing as sleep creeped on her. Tracey's eyes fluttered close, and all that could be heard for a minute was the child's steadied but short breaths, and Amanda's quiet sobs._

_"No matter what happens," Amanda said, "I will always protect you, my little golden girl."_

Michael didn't even think twice before shooting the man that was about to kill his daughter, watching with pleasure as his body went limp. Michael went over to Tracey, quickly hugging her before dragging Amanda into the room and sitting them both on Tracey's bed.

"Baby, are you okay? Are you alright sweetie?" Amanda asked as she hugged Tracey, drawing her close.

"Okay, you two stay in here, keep your heads down." Michael said, turning to head out of the room before he heard Amanda stand up behind him.

"Be safe, baby." She said quietly, her voice breaking.

Michael's heart broke.

"Don't you worry about me." He replied with a sad smile, before running out of the room and locking the door behind him.

All that could be heard for a few minutes was gunshots and screaming, thankfully none of them being Michael's. Then, it went deadly silent.

There were footsteps coming up the stairs.

Tapping on the door.

"Mandy? Tracey?"

Amanda breathed a sigh of relief when she heard her husbands voice, and unlocked the door to let him in. But, the second she even poked her head around the door, she watched a Merryweather security guard - she could tell with the badge on his chest - tackle Michael to the floor and point a gun to his head.

"I got you, you dick." He grinned.

"Fuck!" Amanda and Tracey shouted at the same time.

"It's gonna be alright," Michael said, trying to reassure them both.

"Oh no, it's not." The security guard chuckled.

And just as Michael thought it was all over, the lights cut out all across the house, and he grinned widely as he heard Jimmy's night vision goggles charge up to the right of him. He knew that even after everything that had happened between them, his stoner son had managed to pick up on a few things.

"What was that? Is someone there? I'm gonna start shooting." The security guard panicked.

Amanda let out a small shriek. She had no idea what was happening.

Through the darkness, Michael could see Jimmy out of the corner of his eye, holding his beloved bong over his head. The curly haired boy spared no hesitation as he swung the bong around the guards head, instantly knocking him out. He celebrated by rubbing it in the guys face, literally. Except it wasn't the guard, and he was actually teabagging Michael.

"Get the fuck off me!" Michael shouted, pushing his son off.

"I-I thought I was on that guy!" Jimmy said, pointing to the guard.

"So you sit on his face?" Michael asked, confused.

"It's called tea bagging...I really fucked him up good though, huh?"

After he had managed to calm everyone down, Michael booked him and his family into the Rockford Hills hotel for a few days, just whilst the bodies were disposed of and he made sure his family were out of harms way. Tracey and Jimmy obviously kicked up a fuss about having to share a room, but came to realise that was probably better than listening to their mother waking up screaming from what was sure to be traumatising nightmares all night.

It had just turned 1am, and Amanda was curled up in bed, her head on Michael's chest. The man mindlessly winded his fingers through Amanda's hair before trailing them down her arm, sending goosebumps down her spine. She felt relaxed and safe in the arms of her husband, and never in the 10 years that their relationship was so strained, did she ever believe she would be in this position again.

"Promise me something, Mandy."

"It depends."

"Promise me that if something were to ever happen to you, that you would let me tear the head off of every prick that hurt you."

Amanda smiled, "Only if you can make the same promise to me in return."

Michael chuckled and kissed her head.

"What kind of husband would I be to say no to that?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> I know this would seem like a good place to end the book, and trust me when I first started writing the book, this is the place where I was going to leave it. But, as I've fallen more in love wth this book, I've realised there's so much more I can do with this. So, be expecting the Big Score, three different alternate endings, and a hell of a lot of bonus chapters!
> 
> And if I'm feeling extra nice, there might even be a spin off book. Guess you'll have to wait and see.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> -Phoenix


	14. HER LEGACY

_**Downtown Los Santos, July of 2014** _

"Well you're gonna have to call _someone_ , Mikey!"

This was it. The day Trevor and Michael had spent their entire criminal life working up to: The Big Score. They would jack the Union Depository for almost 200 million dollars, then escape without too much blood being spilled. And it was working, well, up until now. Everything was going great until they had loaded all their gold into the cars and then just about every prick with a bulletproof vest showed up, and it all went downhill from there.

The four cars they had stole turned to three because of a flat tyre, so in the time they were fighting everyone off they also had to load all the gold from that car into one of three remaining cars. Not too bad, right? The cars could hold that much weight, yes, but now the car was also no good because Michael had been shot in his leg and couldn't even stand up without howling in pain.

Trevor, Franklin, and their gunman, had managed to take out the remaining Merryweather guards and were able to have a look at Michael's leg. He was propped against the back of the car he was supposed to be driving, clutching his leg as it throbbed with pure agony, and even though their gunman had offered to drive the car at first, being a getaway driver was not his strong point, so he fled before the police showed.

Now you may be asking, surely they were smart enough to hire a getaway driver? The short answer is yes. Slightly longer answer is that he was killed in the crossfire, and now the boys had about 5 minutes to make a decision before the entire LSPD showed up, followed by other surrounding counties and probably the military.

"I'm not calling Jimmy to come and get me out of this, kid's probably high as a kite right now, he'd crash into the first thing he sees." Michael huffed.

"Okay...so what about Amanda?"

Michael was ashamed to say that it was actually the best idea Trevor had come up with. No, she definitely wasn't into this lifestyle, and she's probably the most erratic driver Michael has ever met, but that's probably what they need right now. So, with a heavy heart, he dialled Amanda's number and pressed the phone to his ear.

"Michael? Did everything go okay? Don't tell me you got caught, for the love of-"

"No, Mandy, it's fine. Well, it's not, I kind of need your help actually."

"My help? With what? I'm not distracting the police officers with a strip dance."

Michael chuckled, because of course that's the first thing she thought of.

"We kinda need you as a getaway driver..." Michael said as if he was pushing his luck, which he definitely was, "I've been shot in the leg and can't drive, and the guy on getaway was killed."

"Oh god, that's awful. I don't know though..."

Michael grimaced with the pain in his leg. Come on Amanda, if you wanna be that supporting wife you always say you are, now would be the time to pull through.

"Fuck it, sure. I'm on my way."

Michael did an internal victory dance before stuffing the phone back in his pocket, giving a thumbs up to the men in front of him who let out a sigh of relief. Not even two minutes later, a car swerved around the corner, and Trevor instinctively raised his gun, expecting it to be a police car. But, as Franklin brought Michael to his feet and helped him get in the car, he could see it was Amanda, wearing a leather jacket and was that...blood on her face?

"Well, what do we have here? Little good girl Amanda ready to be on getaway for the biggest heist in the history of heists?" Trevor said smugly.

"Shove it, Trevor," She sneered, "Sorry if I took too long, I had a little trouble on the way here."

"What kinda fuckin' trouble, Amanda? You've got blood all over your face." Michael said, shaking his head.

"Well, I was kind of panicking and my driving isn't great when I'm panicking, which is all that needs to be said." Amanda replied, taking a deep breath. "So, are we gonna do this or not? Preferably before I change my mind?"

Lester gave a small nod before ducking into the car Franklin was driving, his face pale with sickness as he anticipated what was sure to be a difficult getaway. Trevor threw up his hands and got in a car with the gunman, who looked surprisingly relaxed, almost as if he'd done this before.

Amanda braced herself as she got behind the steering wheel, tapping her fingers against the dashboard. She was rightfully nervous, she had never done anything like this before in her life. Hell, the biggest heist she'd ever pulled was one of the times she'd robbed a liquor store with Michael, and even then he was the one who whisked them away on a dirt bike.

"Hey, its okay to be nervous, this is your first getaway and for one of the biggest scores that's ever been pulled. That said, just don't let your nervousness get in the way of your driving, please."

"That's fuckin' easy for you to say, you've been doing this for almost 30 years. This is my first time."

"Hey, I remember the liquor stores, little lady, ya can't fool me that easy."

Amanda grinned and was about to reply before her attention was drawn to Michael's leg, where blood was seeping through his trousers. She gulped before slipping off her shirt and asking for permission to tie it around her husbands leg, without actually asking.

Can I? Her eyes asked.

If it means you're gonna stay shirtless until we've finished this getaway, fuck yeah. He dared, wiggling his eyebrows.

Amanda shook her head before quickly but gently tying her shirt around Michael's leg, putting pressure on the wound in an attempt to slow the bleeding. Michael gazed at her body longingly, even with all the stretch marks and slight sag from two children, she was still perfect to him.

The wail of police sirens grew closer quicker than Amanda could breathe, and with one last look at her husband, she slammed her foot on the gas and broke into very high speeds, with Trevor and Franklin tailing closely behind.

She fought her absolute hardest to not let her panic overtake her, and it was working for a while, but as they approached the highway where the trucks would be waiting under the bridge, Amanda saw a helicopter and all rational thoughts went flying out of the window. Michael noticed this, he saw her eyes widen in fear, and he knew that if Amanda started panicking now, they were never gonna make it to that bridge.

"Come on Amanda, you've got this."

Amanda didn't even have time to take a deep breath and think about it before she went soaring onto the highway, with cops applying pressure from all directions. Amanda gradually gained more control over her panic and put herself at ease, but just as the car was about to enter the tunnel, a bullet from the helicopter above her pierced into her shoulder, rending her unconscious and making the car swivel out of control.

Amanda slumped backwards against the seat, her foot still heavy on the gas, making her and Michael accelerate into a wall just inside the tunnel. The force of the crash propelled them forward, and whilst Amanda only fell against the dashboard, Michael went flying into the windscreen, cracking it from the pressure of his head.

Should've worn a seatbelt.

Despite the odds, it was also like Amanda's body knew this was a fight she couldn't afford to lose, when she woke up with a gasp, then confusion hit her as to why they were against a wall and Michael's head was doing a lot of bleeding.

She didn't have time to think about it though as pain shot through her shoulder, making her wail in pain. But, she knew she couldn't afford to give up now, and with every ounce of her strength, she managed to turn the car back around and drive it into the truck just before they left the tunnel.

Amanda roared as she was finally able to relax from driving, whilst Michael didn't know which part of his body was supposed to feel pain. They stayed like this for a while, sweat dripping from their heads and blood seeping from their wounds for a few moments before Amanda finally moved.

She slapped her hand onto her shoulder without even giving her brain time to think, not just to slow the bleeding, but to stop Michael looking over at her and panicking when he could actually turn his head without feeling like he was on fire.

"Oh fuck, it hurts so much Michael." She cried.

"It's gonna be okay, I've got a few guys on the inside at the hospital who are gonna take care of us once shit's settled down."

"Well can it settle down a bit fucking quicker?"

Michael laughed, no matter how much it hurt, while Amanda scowled and got comfy in her seat.

Amanda was definitely a fighter, one that Michael loved from the very beginning and would love up until the bitter end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter, because there probably ain't gonna be another for a few days.
> 
> Because I'm doing alternative book endings for all three endings in the game, they're gonna take a fair few days to write. Some will take longer than others, and once it all comes together in the end, be expecting bonus chapters and a spinoff book that is definitely not already in the works.
> 
> I'm so proud of this book, it's the first I've ever come close to completing, so I appreciate all of you who've taken the chance to read.
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> -Phoenix


	15. OPTION A: SOMETHING SENSIBLE

**_Vinewood, Los Santos, August of 2014_ **

"Trevor's...dead?"

Amanda couldn't actually believe what she was hearing. Sure, he and Michael had certainly not been the best of friends recently, but she wasn't expecting Michael to actually do something. She should be pleased, she knows that, having received so much torment from Trevor over the years that it made her hate herself and how she looks, but for some reason she actually felt quite sad. Because, at one point, they were actually close to being friends.

_It was Amanda's day off, and yet she had still found herself at the strip club for Michael's birthday. Of course, Amanda didn't find it convenient at all, she would've much preferred doing something simple like going to the movies or going out for a meal, but if Michael wanted to go and splash all their money on women who weren't his bride-to-be, then so be it._

_Amanda wouldn't mind, she knows that men typically go to a club of some sort with friends for special occasions, but not only did Michael bring just her, Trevor, Brad and Lester, he also never chose to come here when Amanda was actually working. It was almost like he was ashamed of her._

_She'd never miss the chance to flaunt her body though, because as she sat at the bar drinking whisky in a black bodycon dress, all eyes were on her. That was, until an aggressive growl was heard and people were being flung out of the way as no other than Trevor Philips came to accompany her at the bar._

_"When I say move, it means fucking move!" He shouted, taking a seat beside Amanda._

_"Well aren't you charming." She said with a roll of her eyes._

_"You know, Michael invited you here to celebrate his birthday, not to sit at the bar practically naked while you drink your problems away."_

_"I didn't ask for your input, T, this is what I do as a job anyway," she said as she turned to look at her husband sat in a booth at the other side of the room, both his arms around two strippers that hung onto every word he said, "besides, he's having fun without me. I should probably go."_

_She paid the bartender before slipping off her seat, about to make an exit before Trevor gripped her arm so tightly it could've cut off circulation._

_"Wait, don't go, he sent me to tell you to stay." He pleaded._

_"For what? So I can watch him practically cheat on me?"_

_"A piece of advice, 'Manda," Trevor said, "if he's with other women know_ ing _you can see him, he's doing it on purpose. He wants your attention."_

_"Right."_

_"Just...don't give up on him yet. He needs you."_

_Amanda just hummed and made her way over to her fiancee, followed by Trevor. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't such a heartless guy after all._

Amanda hung up the phone before Michael had the chance to say goodbye. A single tear slipped down her cheek as the kids looked at her in confusion, clueless as to what heartless thing their father had just done.

"Mom, what's wrong?" Tracey asked half heartedly, her eyes glued to her college application on her laptop.

"Go to your rooms, both of you. I'll speak to you later." Amanda sighed, rubbing her face with her hands.

"We're adults now, you can't just send us to our rooms!"

"Well if you're such adults, why haven't you got a place of your own now, huh? Or a job? You're setting yourself up to fail! Rooms, now, I won't ask again."

A stream of curses left the kids mouths but they headed up to their rooms anyway, knowing Amanda wouldn't ask unless it was to do with something serious or their father. Whom, speaking of, had just strolled through the front door, his clothes splattered with blood and dirt - much like the night he and Amanda first met.

He pulled out a chair at the table beside Amanda and rubbed her arm soothingly as she quietly wept, her head resting on the hard, wooden table. Once she had calmed herself down, she looked up at Michael with such vulnerability it broke his heart. Her eyes were tinted red, mascara dripping down her face as she finally found the words she had been struggling to say.

"How did it get like this? How did it get to the point where you had to kill your best friend to keep everyone else safe?"

"I don't know, Mandy, but he won't hurt us anymore."

Just as Michael finished his sentence, his phone began to ring. It was an unknown number, which Michael usually doesn't answer, but with the timing of it, he knew not answering would probably do him more harm than good.

"Is this Michael?" A raspy voice asked.

"Depends on who's asking."

"It's Ron."

'Crap,' Michael mouthed to Amanda, 'One of Trevor's friends from Sandy Shores.'

"What can I do for ya?"

"You can sleep with one eye open, man, I heard about Trevor."

That quickly?

Michael just chuckled at Ron and hung up. He knew he could easily kill the frail man, and would to be able to take out any sort of connections he had to anyone remotely powerful.

After talking more about Trevor, the De Santa's went about their day as normal, just with Michael doing almost triple the amount of drinking. By the time night time came around, no-one had come to kill Michael yet, so he decided it was probably a good time to get to bed before anything did happen.

When he reached his bedroom, Amanda was already sound asleep, with the cool summer breeze flowing through the open door of the balcony. He shut the door, slightly on edge from Ron's words earlier, and went to join his wife in bed.

What he wasn't aware of was the fact that someone was already in the house, and Tracey was dead, with Jimmy soon to be joining her.

"Get of- mmmmm," Jimmy mumbled into the pillow, "my dad's gonna- mmmmmm!"

The boy thrashed uncontrollably as he struggled for breath. Damn, whoever was holding this pillow over his head had a death grip. Eventually though, the thrashing stopped, and as Jimmy took his last breath, the only thing he could think about was his hope for Michael to avenge the death of his children.

Michael was still sat up in bed when the door opened to reveal a blood-covered Ron. Michael gawked at him for a second before shaking Amanda awake, who looked just as startled to see some random guy covered in blood inside their room.

"Ron?"

"No," Ron cried, "you were supposed to be distracted like the other two."

Amanda's heart dropped. He better not have hurt her fucking children.

"Listen buddy, I don't know who the fuck you are, but if you've hurt my children I am going to rip your head off your shoulders." Amanda sneered, standing up.

"Those brats? They're already dead, can't ya tell?" Ron said, pulling out his gun, "I'm not gonna kill you, Michael, I ain't, but I can't say the same for this pretty lady."

Michael lunged at Ron, but the small guy moved quicker. Before Michael could try and swipe his ankles, Ron had already got Amanda in headlock. She begun to cry, but didn't make any move to escape his grasp, confusing Michael.

"It's okay Mikey," she cried, "we would've spent the rest of our miserable lives blaming each other anyway."

"No!" Michael yelled, "This ain't how it was supposed to end!"

"How did you expect it to end? Surely you must've known we were never gonna have it easy."

All Michael could do was cry. He knew that no matter what his next move was, Amanda was dead either way, and even if she did survive, the pain of losing the kids would've drove her to suicide.

"Any last words?" Ron asked, his voice shaky as he pressed his gun harder into the side of Amanda's head.

"If we really are meant to be together in another life, I'll be waiting on that car you were gonna get me for my 21st." She smiled sadly, but only for a second. Before Michael could even open his mouth to reply, Ron pulled the trigger and a bullet went straight through Amanda's head, coming out of the other side and hitting the wall.

Michael roared in anger, grief and hurt as he watched his lovers body drop to the floor, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Without even thinking, he once again lunged for Ron, but he had disappeared off the balcony before Michael could get to him. The bank robber then fell to his knees as he stared at his wife's body, unable to look away.

His eyes then slowly moved to the gun which laid beside Amanda's body. He picked it up, his hands shaky, and pressed the gun under his chin. Right now, any life seemed better than a life without his family.

So, before he let himself have any second thoughts, he pulled the trigger.

Michaels eyes shot open, with the first thing he laid them upon being a white ceiling that seemed to never end. For a second, he thought that he was in hospital and his attempt hadn't worked. However, when he turned his head and saw a much younger version of his wife looking at him longingly, he knew he was somewhere else.

"I don't get it," Michael mumbled, "how are you younger?"

"I died a long time ago, Michael, the night we left Ludendorff."

"You're beautiful." He blurted without thinking, his hand reaching to stroke her cheek. Amanda smiled and sat up, making sure to keep herself wrapped in the covers. Michael stayed put, and watched as his wife mindlessly twirled her wedding ring between two of her fingers.

"I often think back to our wedding day, how it all would've been different if I'd been a runaway bride and raised Tracey on my own."

Michael frowned.

"I don't regret anything, despite what you think." She said softly, planting a small kiss on Michael's lips.

Michael just grinned and accepted the kiss, letting himself get lost in Amanda and all she was. Maybe everything had gone horribly wrong, but in this moment, nothing else mattered.

"I guess we really are stuck with each other, huh?" Michael said.

"I love you too." Amanda chuckled.

_**END** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> Ahhh! My first ever book to come close to finishing! Obviously it won't be fully done until I've completed the other two endings, but this is a pretty good start.
> 
> So, what did you think? Were you happy with the outcome, or upset that Michael's and Amanda's fate wasn't different?
> 
> Let me know your thoughts.
> 
> -Phoenix


	16. OPTION B: THE TIME HAS COME

_**Vinewood, Los Santos, August of 2014** _

When Amanda got the phone call, she didn't even shed a tear. She didn't shed a tear when she had to break it to her children that their father had been killed by the guy he was mentoring. She didn't even cry when her kids fled home.

It was a normal morning in August, and it started as any other. Amanda woke up at the crack of dawn for yoga (she's self taught now, she definitely learned her lesson after Fabien), Michael rolled out of bed a few minutes before noon, Jimmy didn't even leave his room and Tracey had snuck out of the window to go to a party the night before.

Which Amanda didn't understand. Her daughter was 23 now, if she wanted to go to a party all she had to do was ask.

Michael told Amanda he had to leave to speak to Franklin about a new job opportunity, even though he was 'retired'. Amanda just hummed and accepted a kiss on the cheek before he left, shouting goodbye to Jimmy as he did so. The father son relationship had definitely improved, but not so much that Jimmy would bother replying to him.

Amanda had been alone in the kitchen for an hour when her phone began to ring. She raised her eyebrow when she saw Michael's phone number pop up, as the last time he called her during a job was when he wanted her to participate, but she answered nonetheless.

"Hello? Michael?"

"Amanda? Amanda, shit! Franklins tryna clip me!"

"What?" Amanda said as she abruptly stood up, pulling on some shoes, "where are you?"

"I'll send you my location, but I don't want you anywhere near this. If anything happens to me, I love you. And the kids. Remember our promise?"

"Yeah," Amanda said, "but shit Michael I won't let you die on me yet. Stay on the phone to me while I drive to you."

Michael just mumbled a reply and it went quiet as Amanda got in the car, connecting her phone to the bluetooth. As soon as she pulled out of the driveway, she put in the GPS for Michael's location and drove as fast as she could, but even at the legal speed limit it would still take her over half an hour. So, deciding to take a risk, she glanced over her shoulder to check for cops, then slammed her foot on the gas as she listened to Franklin and Michael's conversation.

"Franklin! You were like a son to me." Michael shouted.

"We both used eachother, that's what happened." Franklin replied.

Amanda heard a gun shot, before both Michael and Franklin whispered 'oh, shit' at the same time, meaning someone had missed. Despite the fact she could get arrested for so many crimes right now, she turned her bluetooth up louder as she kept driving.

"Michael, man, I gotta look out for myself."

"There's the difference between us. I was looking out for you!"

There was a few more gunshots and heavy breathing before it all stopped. Amanda panicked, thinking of the worst, and when she finally pulled up to the location Michael had sent her, she couldn't get out of the car fast enough. She was about to tell Michael she was here, but the line went dead, and that's when she could finally see them. Michael was frantically climbing up some ladders, with Franklin not far behind, and they were shouting at each other. Amanda ducked behind a wall before anyone could see her, a pistol clutched tightly in her hands as she listened to their conversation.

"I thought about it man, this the only way." Franklin said.

"Who put you up to this, Trevor? You're an idiot! We should take him out together."

Amanda knew that tone of voice. Michael was scared.

"I brought you into my home, Franklin."

Amanda watched as Franklin finally finished ascending the ladders just as Michael ducked to the other side of the building, with Franklin running around like a lost duck. Finally they bumped into each other, and Amanda heard an 'oh shit' as her husband pointed his gun at Franklin.

"Come on, you prick. I taught you everything you know."

"Not everything. I was here long before you, and I'll be here a lot longer after yo ass."

"Oh, we'll see about that, you fuck."

Amanda slowly begun her ascent up the staircase that led to Michael and Franklin, keeping her gun pointed at the latter the entire time. Finally, she reached the ladder, and now she was having doubts because climbing these ladders meaning letting go of gun, and if Franklin saw her, it was over.

She shook her head and slipped the gun back into her pocket, quickly but quietly climbing up the ladders. Eventually, she reached the top where thankfully Franklin had his back turned to her. However, Michael didn't, and the second of relief that showed on his face was enough to get Franklin to turn around, when he pulled his gun on Amanda. The girl was smart though - being married to a criminal does that to you - and already had her gun back out the moment she had reached the top of the ladders.

"Amanda? Get outta here!" Franklin said, confused.

"Not until you get outta here," Amanda said, cocking her head towards the ladders, "you're outnumbered Franklin. Go home."

Franklin looked between Michael and Amanda, huffing as he lowered his gun. He barged past Amanda as she watched him disappear down the ladders, relief spreading through her body, even more so when her husband engulfed her in a hug.

"Oh Mandy," he whispered, "how'd I get so lucky?"

Amanda smiled and shook her head before pulling back, "I thought I was never gonna see you again."

The male grinned and kissed her, and with the both of them too wrapped up in each other to pay attention to the world around them, they didn't notice as Franklin creeped back up the ladders. They didn't even hear him making his way around to be stood behind Michael, or reload his gun before firing it in the air.

Michael turned around slowly, "Frank? We said go."

"Yeah man, but I can't just let you go so easily. Sorry bro."

Without warning, Franklin grabbed Michael in the headlock and begun to wrestle him, and all that poor Amanda could do was watch. She knew she was no match for Franklins strength, and even if she tried shooting him she knew she'd panic and her aim would be completely erratic.

Before Amanda could even give herself time to think about what to do, Michael was thrown over the ledge, but he still gripped onto Franklins arm tightly. Amanda shrieked in terror, her hand flying to her mouth, as her heist pulling husband shook his head and looked at her, a single tear slipping down his cheek.

"If it makes you feel any better man, Trevor wouldn't help with this."

Before Michael could even say something back to him, Franklin had freed himself of the mans grip, and the last thing Amanda heard before he hit the ground was a series of pained wails that would play in her head every single day up until her own death.

3 months later, Amanda was lounging on her couch, wine in hand. The kids had left, with Tracey gone for college and Jimmy running away in fear of getting killed, which meant that Amanda was all alone. She spent her days doing an over excessive amount of drinking and smoking weed, with anything else she could find in between to numb the pain.

Today would've been her and Michael's 25th wedding anniversary, which triggered Amanda to remember hers and Michael's promise to eachother. She'd previously suppressed all her memories of the night Michael died, but now that she was having a moment of sobriety, everything was flowing back to her.

She would fulfil her promise to her husband. She wouldn't let him die in vain.

20 minutes later, and through the power of the internet, she had managed to find Franklin's house and was in the process of pulling up when she spotted a can of gasoline beside his front door. Was this boy really that stupid?

Deciding she didn't want to waste any time, she hopped out of the car and picked up the can of gasoline, beginning a small trail that would lead from one end of Franklins house to the other, and would eventually end at the gas pipes that were on the hills beside his house.

Doing her best not to get caught, Amanda crouched down as she drew the trail past the big glass window of Franklins that looked over LS, and if you looked hard enough you could just spot Franklin slumped near his front door with a bottle of alcohol in his hand.

Amanda shook her head and finished the trail before jogging back to the starting point of Franklin's front door. She lit a match and was just about to throw it before the front door opened, revealing a wide-eyed, drunk Franklin.

Before he had time to process what was happening, Amanda pulled a gun out and pointed it to his head. He threw his hands up, but didn't really look hesitant or scared.

"Listen Amanda, I know you still hurtin' about Michael, but it don't have to be like this." 

"Don't 'listen Amanda' me you murdering bastard. Get inside." She practically growled, poking her gun into Franklins head as she guided him back into the house. Once inside, she wasted no time before running back outside, making sure to jam the door shut first. She knew that if she gave herself a moment to think about what she was doing, she wouldn't do it, because she wasn't the torturous-murdering type. But, every time she replayed Michael's wailing in her head, she saw red, and as she stared down at Franklins front door, she knew she'd made the right choice.

The match was thrown, and Amanda got back in her car and drove away before the police or fire service showed up. However, just before she left the hills, she got to see the wonderful sight of the house peacefully surrounded by fire before there was an explosion and it burst into flames.

After that, the days returned to how they were before. Amanda would drink until she was blackout drunk on the sofa, taking a handful of pills that she didn't know the name of to help numb the pain she was feeling. Eventually, she stopped leaving the house altogether, despite what it was for, even for such basic things like food or just for a soak in the sun.

She was slowly decaying, and it was like this for weeks, until eventually the woman died of numerous organ failures, and yet the worst part was that no-one would've ever known if Tracey didn't return to the house months later because her mom wasn't answering the phone.

Oh well, Tracey thought as she called an ambulance, at least her mom would be happy now.

_**END** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> Sooo what do you think? We all lowkey knew that Michael's death wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, but I tried to make it as good as I possibly could.
> 
> The third and final ending will be out on Friday, and I've decided that after the book is finished I will add a few bonus chapters and maybe do a spinoff book for Trevor and a love interest, if that's something anyone would like to see.
> 
> Thanks for reading.
> 
> -Phoenix


	17. OPTION C: DEATHWISH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> Wow! Finally finished this book. Don't worry though, I have a plotline for the sequel and there will be bonus chapters coming.
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please let me know what you thought of this ending and what you think the sequels gonna be about - unless your Keighlea, who already knows.
> 
> Thankyou.
> 
> -Phoenix

**_Los Santos, August of 2014_ **

"Frank?"

It was a hot afternoon in Vinewood when Michael got a phone call from Franklin, telling him that if he didn't cut off all their loose ends they were gonna be wiped out. Of course, Michael wasn't scared at first, people had been threatening to clip him for a long time but never acted out on it, but when Franklin said both Steve Haines and Devin Weston had been at his house, Michael was out of the door in seconds.

Amanda just sighed, knowing there was no way she could talk her husband out of walking into certain death. She finished washing the dishes and went upstairs to tidy Tracey's room, but Jimmy jumped out of nowhere and blocked Amanda from entering the room.

"Jimmy, what are you doing?" Amanda asked, trying to barge her way past her son even though she knew it was no use.

"Uhhh, Tracey's like, busy, come back later?" He replied nervously.

"James." Amanda said sternly.

"Fine," Jimmy groaned, "She's at a boat party with Lazlow."

"She's what?"

"She said she wasn't gonna tell you because she knew you'd tell dad and he'd go psycho..."

"Whatever, I'm going to pick her up."

"Don't tell her I told you!"

Amanda left the house dressed in a vest top and joggers, looking like she'd just come back from a rough night out. She connected her phone to her cars bluetooth and tried calling Tracey, but it went to voicemail. Out of frustration, she slammed her hand against the dashboard, but as she did so, her phone began to ring.

"Hello?"

"Amanda? I need your help." Michael said, his voice calm as it came through the phone.

"I'm kind of busy Michael, apparently Tracey's at another fucking boat party with Lazlow."

"What?"

"She knew we'd be mad if we found out so she got Jimmy to cover for her, but he's a terrible liar."

"Shit..." Michael trailed off, "We'll deal with her later, this is more important. Meet me at the foundry."

Amanda agreed and put the phone down, driving as quick as she possibly could down to Downtown LS, where the foundry was located. The building had been desolate for a long time, but it was also famous for the amount of gang shoot outs and killings that had happened there, so Amanda wasn't surprised with this choice in location. She finally managed to find it, after having to drive through multiple narrow roads and gang-run alleyways, and pulled up to where Michael, Trevor and Franklin were, but it was more of Michael and Trevor just arguing whilst Franklin was ignored.

"Guys, what's going on?" Amanda said as she joined the little circle the trio were stood in.

"We got some guys we need to take out, I figured you can help us since y'know...you're getting kinda good at this."

Amanda just shook her head but made no disagreements. However, after they got the locations of the people they need to take out, Trevor tasked her with the hardest one of them all, almost like he was asking for her to get killed. She was getting good, but she wasn't a pro.

"Are you joking? You want me to take out a bunch of Merryweather guys and kidnap Devin Weston on my own?"

"I'm coming with you, god if I'd be the reason you got killed I'd never hear the end of it from your snake of a husband."

"Hey! Knock it off. Starting an argument ain't gonna help us out." Michael said.

Amanda rolled her eyes but followed Trevor to his truck regardless, preparing herself for what she thought was going to be an eventful car ride, but it actually turned out to be brutally silent. Amanda thinks she would've preferred pointless banter more.

"Alrighty, we're here." Trevor said, hopping out of his truck and throwing Amanda a gun. She scowled at him but got out of the truck anyway, following him to a tree that was based just outside Devon's front door, where there were two security guards waiting for someone to attack.

"Security's too light here, means this pricks probably hiding out in the back somewhere." Trevor whispered.

"Should we take this guys out?"

"Yeah, we can probably do this without too much hassle though, so try and creep up on 'em."

Amanda was about to ask how the fuck she was supposed to do that, but Trevor was already pushing her over the ledge and onto the pavement where the Merryweather guards were immediately alerted to her presence. They raised their guns, ready to shoot, but Amanda lifted her gun over her shoulder and hit the guys with the back of the gun before they could shoot or make the other guards aware that she was here.

Trevor nodded at her, and silently they attacked the guards until they made it to the pool where most of the guards were located. Together, they slaughtered every single one of the Merryweather guards until there was one standing, and looked to be fiercely protecting a little box that would usually be used for storage, but knowing Devin this was probably where he was hiding. Amanda killed the guy without even thinking to consult Trevor, and then proceeded to lift the lid of the box where an almost naked Devin was curled up.

"W-we can talk about this!" He said, scared.

"Unfortunately, we don't got time for that." Amanda replied sarcastically, and went to help him get out of the box. As soon as he was out, Trevor gave him a powerful right hook to the face, knocking him out immediately.

They drove in silence to the lookout point, minus a few comments from Devin about offering Trevor a job and giving Amanda money to compensate for everything he had done to Michael, but his comments went ignored. Once they reached their destination, Amanda and Trevor left the car, with Amanda jumping onto the bonnet while Trevor just leaned against it.

"So," Trevor said after a few minutes of silence, "how's it going with you and Michael?"

"Like you give a fuck," Amanda replied as she lit a cigarette, "but it's good. We get along better than we used to."

"Good." Trevor said with a sigh.

"If it's good why are you huffing and puffing about it?"

"Because it's taken you fucking long enough to realise he cares about you."

"A couple of decades ago I would've agreed, but after I caught him cheating and he forced me to move here, it changed."

"Right."

"And what about you? What's your love life like these days?"

"Meh, been dating this girl called Ursula. Totally psycho, good fuck, really pretty."

"Seems like your type." Amanda chuckled.

Trevor was going to reply, but when Franklin and Trevor pulled up they knew they had to get back to the task at hand. They taunted Devin for a few minutes, with Amanda making a few odd comments as she finished her cigarette, and then came the moment that they could finally end it all.

They were going to kill Devin.

It took a lot of muscle on Amanda's part, but as the watched the car explode in the ocean, the muscle tear she could feel was definitely worth it. Trevor said a quick goodbye, probably eager to leave this part of his life - and Michael - behind him, whilst Franklin lingered for a little longer so him and Michael could talk in private.

After the duo had wrapped things up and Franklin took off on his motorcycle, Michael approached Amanda, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Well, we finally did it, I can really fuckin' retire this time." He said with a laugh.

"Right, until something else comes up and you're gonna have to go all bank robber again." Amanda replied, looping her arms around his neck.

"Yeah well, if it comes to that, at least I've got you for help this time around."

"I doubt its gonna come to that."

Michael pulled Amanda in for a kiss, painting a picturesque scene as the sun set behind them,and the only thing either of them could think about was each other. The kiss begun to get more heated, and as Michael gently laid Amanda on the bonnet of the car, trailing his hands down her body, neither of them could've known just how wrong Amanda's previous statement turned out to be.

**_END_ **


End file.
